


What You Deserve

by ForForever19



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sleepless in Seattle Fusion, Artist Kara Danvers, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Past Kara Danvers/Cat Grant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29702256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForForever19/pseuds/ForForever19
Summary: 'It starts on a cool night in late November. With a little boy, a telephone and a sympathetic radio host.' OR A Sleepless in Seattle AU.
Relationships: Alex Danvers & Kara Danvers, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Samantha "Sam" Arias & Lena Luthor, Samantha "Sam" Arias/Alex Danvers
Comments: 39
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Supergirl Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**AN** : For some reason, I'm a pretty big of the film, _Sleepless In Seattle_. I think Jonah owns my heart, to be honest. Anyway. It's a story I wanted to write - with my own twists, of course - and it just ended up fitting Supercorp better, so I'm running with it and seeing how it goes. Please enjoy, and take care wherever you are in the world.

* * *

**I**

It starts on a cool night in late November.

With a little boy, a telephone and a sympathetic radio host.

The boy, Carter, should be asleep, tucked away in his warm bed, but, instead, he's wide awake, listening to the radio his Grandma bought for him at a garage sale she visited a few days ago.

Carter likes old things. Likes to tinker with them. Take them apart and then put them back together again. Better or worse, who knows, but he always gets surprised when it ends up working different than before.

His Mommy encourages him, of course. She's always nurtured his interests, guiding him as best she knows how, reading up on all sorts of new topics in order to help him understand better. She's taken to motherhood quite well, even though it's not something she would have asked for at such a young age.

While Carter should be asleep, he's not.

He's a little wired after all the excitement of getting his radio to work. He knows to be quiet, but this house is still a little scary and he doesn't want to be the little boy who crawls into his Mommy's bed when he gets scared. His Grandma said he had to be strong for her, and he's determined to be.

Carter just wishes she would smile more. The way she used to. Before.

Before all of it.

Lying on his stomach, Carter adjusts the tuning dial, searching for a station that's playing some Christmas music. He loves Christmas and he loves music, so it's a given he would love Christmas music. His Mommy loves it, too.

Normally.

But nothing has been normal about their lives in quite a while.

The radio station he does find isn't one he recognises, but they're playing _All I Want for Christmas_ , and it's one of his Mama's favourites. They used to dance together, Carter snug in her arms, smiles on their faces, with Mommy watching them like they could disappear any second.

And then they did.

Carter sighs into his pillow, kicking his feet as he listens to the rest of the song. He hums along, trying not to miss his old home too much. He doesn't, not really, because there are no memories here. Well, none that he actually remembers himself.

He doesn't like it. He doesn't want to forget things. That would make him sad, and that would make his Mommy even more sad, which he definitely doesn't want.

When the song ends, it immediately switches to another one, and he carefully rolls onto his back, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars his Mommy stuck on his ceiling for him.

It makes him feels closer, somehow, but still so far away.

His Mommy lies with him sometimes, both of them staring at the stars as if they hold the secrets to the Universe. Maybe they do. He doubts the stars would tell them, anyway.

If they did, why would they pick him?

The song ends again, and there's a radio jingle that makes him smile. Music really does make him happy; the way it all fits together, different notes and instruments coming together to create harmony.

His Mommy told him, once, that was like their family. Made up of all sorts of people, different in many ways, but fitting together to make good music. His Grandma Eliza and his Aunt Alex and his Uncle Winn and Uncle Clark and Aunt Lois.

None of them is his Mama, though.

When the jingle ends, a woman's voice starts to speak, and Carter's little ears perk up. She says, "That was _Angels We Have Heard on High_ ," with a soothing voice. "Hope you're all having a good November evening, you're with Nia Nal on Stronger Together with KX3P. Join me, William and Eve tonight, and help make all your Christmas wishes come true."

A man's voice adds, "We're batting four-and-oh at the moment, so I think the odds are high."

Nia laughs. "There you go with your sports analogies," she says. "Just tell them we're having a successful evening."

"We're going for a full sweep," the man, William, says, and Carter listens as they provide all the information to place a call into the station if one so wished before taking a call from a young man named Rupert.

Carter sits perfectly still for exactly a minute, listening to Rupert's Christmas wish of having enough money to afford his college textbooks. Carter slowly sits up and crosses his legs in front of him as he hears them make Rupert's wish come true.

He doesn't make the decision simply. Sometimes, he knows he spends too much time thinking about things, but he has a specific aim to accomplish in this moment.

His Mommy always tells him he shouldn't be afraid to ask for help.

Decision made, he hops off his bed and patters out of his bedroom, socked-feet taking him down the stairs and finds the cordless phone in its charging station. He looks around to make sure there's nobody to see him, plucks it out and then scrambles back to his room.

He climbs back onto his bed, dials a very particular number, and hopes for a miracle.

* * *

Lena Luthor barely reacts when her office door flies open and Sam Arias comes tumbling in. Her arms are full of folders and endless spreadsheets, a scowl on her face and her hair falling out of her ponytail.

"I hate Wednesdays," is the first thing Sam says, and Lena would have to agree. Wednesdays are kind of horrible.

"Hello to you, too," Lena says with a soft laugh. "Tough day?"

"I have so much shit for you," Sam huffs, moving straight to Lena's desk and dumping all the documents on it.

Lena's eyes widen. "This can't be all mine?" she says.

"Some of it is mine," Sam assures her. "Let me just grab my bag outside and close the door, and I'll sort it all out."

It takes another ten minutes for Sam to get completely settled. She separates all the documents into a pile for Lena and a pile for herself, and then settles on Lena's couch, kicking off her heels and snacking on a packet of gummy worms.

If anything, Lena is more surprised by how long it actually takes Sam to say, "Please can we put on some music. I don't know how you can work on something so boring in silence."

"Sam, you're literally a Finance Major."

"It was _boring_ , Lena," she says. "And I had a lot of Kendrick Lamar."

"We are definitely not listening to rap right now," Lena says, firm, and Sam takes it as permission to reach for her own laptop and find something for them to use to fill the silence.

Lena will admit the financial report she's reading _is_ deathly boring, but so are a lot of things that come across her desk. She isn't the CEO of a multimillion dollar company without having to put in the grind.

"Ooh," Sam suddenly says. "I know just what we need."

Before Lena can question her, the sound of _O Holy Night_ is coming from the built-in speakers, and Lena would protest just on principal. Thanksgiving was _just_ last week - surely it's still too early.

Apparently not, when Sam starts humming along as the song ends. When Lena expects to hear another song come on immediately, the room is rather filled with the sound of a woman's voice reminding them what they just heard, which is immediately followed by an audio advert to donate to something called the Christmas Wish Fund.

Lena looks over at Sam, who just shrugs and checks her screen. "It's some kind of radio station," she explains. "Do you want me to change it?"

(Years from now, Sam won't let her forget this moment, because a lot of things in her life have happened without her actively consenting to it. This time is different.)

"No, it's okay," Lena tells her, and Sam grins in triumph as the woman's voice continues on.

She says, "Once again, you're back with Nia Nal on Stronger Together with KX3P. I'm here tonight with William and Eve, hoping to help make all your Christmas wishes come true."

 _Now_ , Lena almost gets her to change the station. She does not need to hear some woman attempt to give some unsuspecting people false hope. It's the most dangerous thing, if anyone were to ask her.

"And we have our next caller on the line," Nia says. "Carter? You're on. Are you there?"

"Hello." The voice is young, too tiny to be anyone but a child, and Lena abandons her decision to ask Sam to change the station completely.

Nia takes a breath. "Hello, is this Carter?"

"This is Carter."

"Well, hello there, young man," Nia says, appearing surprised by how young he sounds. "Do you mind my asking how old you are?"

"I'm seven," he says. "Almost eight."

"That's young."

"Mommy doesn't say so."

"Well, I assume your mother thinks you're asleep, correct?"

Carter is quiet for a moment. "Maybe."

Nia chuckles softly. "Well, we won't tell if you won't," she says, and Lena isn't sure what to make of that. Should the woman be encouraging such behaviour? Surely not.

"So, we hear you have a Christmas wish," Nia says. "We can't make any promises, but we're definitely going to do everything we can make it come true."

"Everything?" he questions.

"Everything," Nia confirms.

"Are you going to talk to Santa?"

Lena's heart swells in her chest, because this boy is adorable. She looks across at Sam, who looks equally affected, even as she keeps her focus on the spreadsheets open in front of her.

"Have you already written your letter to Santa?" Nia asks, instead of answering.

"Uh huh," Carter says. "But I'm worried he'll get confused."

"Why's that?"

"We moved houses," Carter explains. "What if he goes to the wrong place?"

"I doubt that," Nia assures him. "If he's able to know if you've been Naughty or Nice, he'll definitely know where you live."

"Oh."

Lena smiles gently to herself, because maybe Nia isn't so bad. Maybe she should consider donating to the Christmas Wish Fund the radio station is promoting.

"What's your Christmas wish, Carter?" Nia asks, getting them back on track.

"It's not for me," he says; "it's for my Mommy."

"That's very sweet of you, Carter," Nia says, and Lena is sure hundred, if not thousands, of hearts are melting across America. Sam even makes a sound that could be considered a whimper. "What is your wish?"

"I wish she would smile more," he declares. "Like before."

"Before?"

"When she was happy," he says, all innocence, and Lena suddenly aches, because there's a certain inflection in his voice that she recognises. "When Mama was still alive."

Lena sucks in a sharp breath at the confirmation of her own guess, her mind automatically jumping to thoughts unfit for this close to Christmas.

"Oh," Nia says, and she sounds only slightly confused. "Mama is..."

"Different to Mommy," Carter says, and it sounds as if he's rolling his eyes. Lena glances at Sam, who is already looking at her with eyes that understand far more than Lena is strictly comfortable with. "I have two mommies." He pauses. " _Had_."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Carter," Nia says. "Has it been long?"

"Since April Fool's Day," he says, voice low. "Mommy thought she was joking when she didn't wake up. She wasn't."

"Oh, God," Sam says, just the two of them in this office, and Lena can't shake the feeling she's now heartbroken over a pair of people she doesn't even know.

"I - " Nia starts; "Carter, I am so sorry."

Carter hums softly, and there's a bit of shuffling. "We moved in the summer," he says. "I thought it would be better. She's s'pposed to smile now, but - " his breath catches. "What if I can't make her happy?"

As a rule, Lena doesn't initiate hugs, but she's never wished to be able to reach through her device and give someone a hug more than in this moment. She just wants to comfort him in some way, and assure him that everything is going to be okay.

"Oh, Sweetheart," Nia says, echoing what Lena's sure every other listener is feeling. "Of course you make her happy."

"Then, why won't she smile more?"

Nia is quiet for a moment, probably thinking over her response. Lena's sure this is the last thing she expected when she answered this particular call. "You notice your mother's smiles, you said," Nia says. "Which means she must have different ones?"

Carter doesn't immediately respond, but then he says, "Mama used to say she has a Carter-Smile."

"Does she still smile that smile?"

"I - yes," he says, sounding a little confused.

"And she had a different smile for your other mother?" Nia prompts, and Lena suddenly gets where she's going with this.

"She doesn't smile that one anymore, because Mama isn't here anymore," Carter says, and Lena is proud of him for getting it so quickly.

"Exactly," Nia says. "So, it's not as if she's smiling less, dear; it's just there's a smile that's missing."

Okay.

Maybe this Nia isn't so bad.

Carter is quiet for a moment. "Does that mean I should ask Santa for another wife for my Mommy instead?" he asks, and Lena almost chokes on air.

Sam actually snorts. "Oh, my God," she says. "That backfired on Nia so hard."

"Um - " Nia starts.

"And then she'll smile more," Carter adds, sounding excited in the way that says his idea is now rooted in his mind. "It makes the most sense. Mama and I even talked about it. Wait, let me get the list."

Lena frowns, and Sam gives her a curious look, because _what_?

"What do you mean, Carter?" Nia asks.

They hear some more shuffling, and then Carter sounds a little breathless when he says, "It was Mama's Christmas wish last year. I almost forgot." He goes quiet. "She wanted us to be happy. After she was gone. We made a list of the kind of person Mommy needs to be happy. Will you help me find her a new wife?"

"Carter, I don't think - "

"That's my Christmas wish," he declares. "You said you would do everything you could to make it come true."

Sam whistles. "I mean, the kid's not wrong," she says. "Nia did make a lofty promise."

"I - " Nia tries. "Um, I don't suppose you have an idea on how to do that, do you?"

Lena realises in that moment she hasn't read a single word of the report in her hands, and she sets it aside in favour of hydration. She gets to her feet, drawing Sam's attention, and she gestures to her small bar area with raised eyebrows.

Sam nods once, and Lena walks over to pour two drinks for them just as Carter says, "We have to find someone compatible."

Lena grins at the word, already endeared to this little boy somewhere in the world.

"We need someone patient," he says. "Mama called Mommy an idiot all the time. She's very clumsy. We have First Aid Kits everywhere."

Lena can't stop her chuckle.

"We need someone closer to her age," Carter says. "Because Mama was so much older than her and she always worried about it." He breathes in. "She also has to make Mommy laugh. Mommy has a pretty laugh. Mama used to say it sounded like Christmas."

It has been assumed Lena has a cold, dead heart by many, but it's thawing in this moment. She pours their drinks - whiskey, of course - and then carries both glasses to the couch, choosing to join Sam while she nurses her drink.

Carter goes on to add, "She has to be immune to Mommy's puppy-dog eyes." He pauses. "Does that mean it shouldn't affect her?"

"It does, Carter," Nia tells him.

"Oh, yeah, that's important, because she's very good with those eyes," he says. "She gets me to eat all my vegetables with them."

"Thanks for the drink," Sam whispers.

"Of course," Lena murmurs in response.

"The kid is cute, isn't he?" Sam comments, stretching her back and quietly groaning.

Lena hums in agreement, listening as Carter lists off all the other characteristics he would want in a new wife for his mother. He's taking it very seriously, and she hopes he doesn't end up too disappointed when Nia can't make his wish come true.

"I don't even know what I would do if Ruby called in and asked for help finding _me_ a wife," Sam says, looking momentarily horrified. "It would be mortifying. Especially if the people in our everyday life recognised us."

"He means well," Lena says, wincing slightly when Carter says, "She also has to have a lot of money, because Mommy eats a lot."

Sam giggles, and then falls silent. "I think about it sometimes," she says. "If it's better that Ruby never knew her father. If it would have hurt more or less if she'd known him and lost him, or just not known him at all."

Lena goes still, because Sam very rarely talks about her past this way. Of course, Lena knows snippets she's learned over the years, but the two of them met after Ruby was already born and there was no father in the picture. Lena hasn't been so insensitive not to realise there's a pain there.

There's pain everywhere.

Sam clears her throat. "Maybe that would be my wish," she says. "No pain ever for my kid."

Lena doesn't mention that's an impossible wish, but she suspects Sam already knows that. Lena doesn't think she's as selfless as her friend, but maybe she would wish for the same thing for herself.

"What about you?" Sam asks, and Lena turns to her. "If you could call in right now, what would your wish be?"

Maybe, on another night, she'd wish her own mother was still alive. Maybe she'd wish to go back in time just to see her one more time; commit more of her to memory and tell her how much Lena loves her.

Instead, tonight, she says, "I suppose I'd wish for Carter's wish to come true."

Sam's smile softens and she reaches a hand out to squeeze Lena's upper arm. "You're a secret romantic, aren't you?" she teases as Carter adds, "She also has to be smart, because Mommy's more… creative."

Lena chuckles, entertaining the crazy idea of meeting this boy one day and congratulating him. "I don't think it's much of a secret," Lena says, sipping at her drink.

Sam hums. "Jack's really overshooting it, isn't he?"

Lena rolls her eyes. "I appreciate flowers as much as the next girl, but he's starting to look desperate."

"He is," Sam says, sitting up and stretching her legs. "Are you going to take him back?"

It's the question she's been battling with. It's not even the first time Sam has asked it, but Lena can't answer. She and Jack dated during a time in her life when he was what she needed: someone to _see_ her. Now, what she needs is someone to _understand_ her.

"She also has to like cats," Carter says, and then giggles as if he's said something particularly funny. "Mommy likes cats. She also - uh oh."

Sam and Lena exchange a worried look.

The silence lasts a few seconds before Nia says, "Carter, are you still there?"

"Nia," Carter whispers. "Mommy's awake. She's staring right at me."

Lena's eyes widen, and she finds herself leaning forward when she hears the sound of muffled voices.

Sam chuckles softly, mainly to herself, and says, "Someone's in trouble."

"Carter?" Nia says.

"I have to give her the phone now," Carter says, and he sounds as if he's pouting. "Remember you promised to help."

"We'll do our best, Carter."

"Thank you," he murmurs. "Hold on."

Lena hears the exchange of the phone, some more muffled sounds, and then a voice - a voice she will come to know rather intimately - says, "Hello, may I ask who's speaking?"

Now, Lena wouldn't admit to having some kind of physical reaction, but _something_ does happen. Something she doesn't even realise and wouldn't be able to explain, anyway.

It's just that her wish is about to come true.

* * *

"You're speaking to Nia Nal on Stronger Together with KX3P. I'm here tonight with my colleagues William and Eve, hoping to help make your son's Christmas wish come true."

Of all the things Kara expects to hear when she puts the phone to her ear; it's definitely not that. She glances at Carter, who looks up at her with innocent eyes, and her heart thuds in her chest. "Oh."

"We're only trying to help," the woman says into Kara's ear.

"I'm sure you are," she says, and she _knows_ how exhausted she sounds. "It's just that it's way past _someone's_ bedtime, and that _someone_ has school tomorrow."

"But Mom - " Carter starts to argue, and her eyes snap towards him. He sighs. "Okay." He moves towards his bed and slowly climbs in, Kara watching him like a hawk.

"Thank you for talking to him, regardless," Kara says into the phone, ready to end the call as soon as possible. "I hope his wish wasn't for a llama, because we've already discussed it." She throws a wink at Carter, whose head is just peaking out of his covers, and he giggles.

They're _not_ getting a llama, but they're going to visit a farm with them and Kara's almost as excited as he is.

"Actually," Nia says into Kara's ear. "His wish was for you."

Kara blinks. "Oh."

"He wished that you would smile more."

"Oh." Her heart aches at the thought her son would waste his wish on something like that, and she crosses the room to sit on the edge of his bed, leaning against his headboard. He's looking at her with eyes that are too similar; familiar in a way she wishes wouldn't hurt as much as they do.

Carter hesitates a moment, and then snuggles into her, the side of his face pressed against her abdomen. She switches the phone over to her other ear and uses her free hand to rub gentle circles on his back.

"I suppose he told you, then," Kara says, sighing.

"We're sorry for your loss."

Kara almost snorts. Honestly. The number of times she's heard those words; they've lost all their effect. She wonders if the people who say them even mean them. Still, she says, "Thank you."

"Carter mentioned it hasn't been long," Nia says, and Kara doesn't even have to calculate the time. She knows already.

"Almost eight months, yes," she confirms. "She's been gone for longer than we were married." It's a truth that stings in ways she can't quite explain, because it shouldn't matter. They were together for longer, but she hates she didn't get the privilege of being a _wife_ for more time.

Nia's voice is full of sympathy when she says, "And, how has it been for you?"

Kara knows she needs to end this conversation. She needs to hang up the phone, tuck Carter in and return to her own lonely bed. Instead, Kara admits, "It's been difficult," and her voice sounds so, so defeated. "This isn't the first time I've lost a loved one, but I still don't know how anyone survives grief."

"With support, I imagine."

Kara clears her throat. "I suppose."

"Do you have that?" Nia asks, and Kara feels a little uncomfortable at the invasiveness of the question.

"Support?"

"Yes."

"I have my family, if that's what you're asking," Kara confesses, thinking about Eliza and Alex. "My, um, mother and sister. They've been so great these past few months. I don't think I could have got through any of it without them."

"Carter mentioned you've recently moved?"

Kara glances down where Carter appears to have fallen asleep. She smooths a hand over his curls, smiling gently. He always sleeps like the dead; she could probably have a rave and he wouldn't notice.

"Back home," Kara tells Nia. "To live with my, um, mother for a while. It was a decision I made, perhaps selfishly, to move us both out here. Just to get away from… all of it. I've come to accept that… my wife… is gone, but it's difficult to exist in an environment where, when people look at you, it's all they see. A widow. Someone lost; someone broken. Someone half of whom they once were."

"Is that how you see yourself?"

Kara is quiet for a long, long time. "No." It feels like the truth, even if she doesn't necessarily believe herself. "I have Carter," she adds. "I could never be half of anything with him around."

"We should confess," Nia starts, "that part of his wish is for us to help him find you a new wife." Kara goes still. "He's convinced it'll make you smile more."

She might have laughed, in another life. "I see."

"Apparently, he already has a list of characteristics he's looking for," Nia says. "Mentioned he came up with the list with your late wife."

Now, Kara chuckles, and it's a soft sound. Foreign to her own ears. "That doesn't surprise me," she says. "It was a bit of a joke she liked to make, because she was so much older than me." She clears her throat. "Because of the age gap, she was convinced she would die before me, and so she liked to plan my future without her, and the one thing she wanted was for me to find an age-appropriate wife."

"It sounds as if you must have had quite the love story," Nia says, and Kara just knows the woman must be itching to know more details. Thus far, she's managed to avoid giving her name, though she knows she's going to have to have a talk with Carter about giving strangers his real name.

"It is," Kara agrees, because it truly is. "My sister likes to claim we give _The Devil Wears Prada_ a run for its money when it comes to the drama." It was always Alex's favourite story to tell, finding immense amusement in how the two of them danced around each other for so long, all while harbouring intense attraction enough to be felt by nearly everyone with which they came into contact.

Now, though, Alex doesn't even mention her name.

Well.

Neither does Kara.

"I was her assistant, and it was complicated from the very beginning," Kara tells Nia, as well as however many people are listening to her right now. "I was twenty-three when we met, something of a struggling artist, as we could all claim to be at that age. I needed a job, and she needed someone who could keep up with her demanding schedule." She rolls her eyes a little, because nobody could ever keep up with her. "It was near impossible, but I did a better job than most. She told me I wore her down with my sunny disposition, which is still baffling to me, because I was convinced she hated everything about me for the first six months we worked together.

"Sometimes, I hate how much time we wasted," Kara says. "Other times, I'm glad it played out exactly the way it did, because getting no time with her would have been worse. If four years of knowing her is all I was always meant to have, then I'm glad I had them at all. Because, I think about that a lot; what it would have been like if we continued to deny our feelings because society said we weren't compatible." She clears her throat. "It's why it took so long, I think. We were in such different places in our lives, and I was convinced we wouldn't work just as much as she was.

"But then I met Carter, and I could deny my feelings for her as much as I wanted, but I never could have denied my love for him. It's near impossible. I'm sure you feel something similar, and you spoke to him for only a few minutes."

"He truly is something special," Nia agrees. "Obviously loves you very much and wants you to be happy."

"Just has a strange way of going about it," Kara says.

"There are worse Christmas wishes," Nia points out, which is true.

"Oh, I know," Kara says, eyes on her little man. "One year, he wished we could visit the moon, and I had no idea how I was supposed to accomplish that."

"With Santa's help, I imagine," Nia says, and Kara lets out an unexpected laugh, because wouldn't that make life that bit more simple?

She sighs. "All I knew then and all I know now is I would do anything and everything to make all his wishes come true." She falls silent. "But maybe not this one."

* * *

Lena and Sam haven't said a word to each other since the moment Carter's mother's voice came over the radio, and Lena wouldn't really be able to explain why.

Something about her voice demands silence.

Lena just listens as some strange woman somewhere in the world says, "I just don't want to be another person to break his heart."

"Who are the others?" Nia asks.

"His father," she says, voice tinted with obvious disdain. "His mother," she adds. "She broke both our hearts."

"And how did she do that?" Nia asks, but they all already know.

"She died."

Lena breathes deeply, hearing the words and feeling them settle in her bones. There's a heaviness there that Lena understands and desperately wishes she didn't. Death can be both ugly and beautiful.

"Carter mentioned it was - he said it was unexpected," Nia says, trying to be delicate about it, and Lena closes her eyes, because there is nothing delicate about death.

"Unexpected," the woman echoes. "Yes, and no." There's a soft sigh. "She always had headaches. When I worked for her, I learned to pick up on when she was having them. Just the way her eyes would pinch and her lips would press together. It was different to the way her brow would set when she was annoyed, and I would be ready with Advil and a bottle of water. It took me a while to realise normal people don't just observe their bosses that way, but I suppose it happens when it happens.

"It made sense that she would get headaches at the time," she continues. "Her job was demanding, and she was a perfectionist, and she was convinced everyone she worked with was an idiot, so she was constantly stressed. So she got headaches, and I could worry only in silence.

"When we started dating, I was allowed to worry in a more vocal way, but it still took some months to convince her to get checked out. She told me once that she loved the way it felt to be cared for, and it always broke my heart that she had to be in her forties to experience it. It took a while, but I finally convinced her to see a doctor, and then she did."

Lena almost expects Nia to prompt her again, but there is only silence. So much echoing silence.

Eventually, she says, "There was a tumour, and she was given six months."

Lena gasps softly, because she can't figure if it's better or worse that they were given time to say goodbye.

"Things happened rather quickly after that," Carter's mother continues. "We saw every doctor under the sun, but nobody could give us a better prognosis. It felt so cruel, you know? That we survived so much else to be together, and then this... invisible thing was going to end it all. She dealt with it by being angry and pragmatic, deciding the best thing to do was prepare us for what would happen After.

"She didn't even want to tell Carter at first," she says, and her laugh is harsh. "Can you imagine? I think that was our biggest fight ever, and we had many. She was just so scared and she couldn't admit it, and we didn't speak for three days." The only sound is her breathing. "She told me to leave her," she whispers. "She told me to take Carter and go, so we wouldn't have to watch her waste away." She snorts. "Honestly, she called _me_ an idiot, but she could be so stupid and dramatic. It was just sensational that she thought I would ever listen to her. I mean, I'd seen her wearing kitten pyjamas, so there's only so much you can take a person seriously when that happens."

Lena smiles softly, imagining this pair of women staring down the barrel of a terrible outcome but finding something to be amused about.

"I don't like to think about the end too much," Carter's mother says. "She marked it in our calendar, though. Circled it in red marker like it was some kind of expiry date, and I couldn't even be irritated by it, because she was so chuffed with herself that she was now the one scheduling things between the two of us. She was doubly curious to know if she would be on time. Which, I mean, how morbid is that, you know?"

Lena doesn't want to imagine it, but it's right there in front of her, painted so clearly.

"We hadn't really discussed marriage before. She was divorced, and that marriage wasn't kind to her, so I told her once we started getting serious that if ever she wanted to get married, she should tell me, and I would be ready if ever she was." The laugh she releases sounds tired, and Lena feels Sam's hand settle on her knee. "I told her, if she wanted to take the chance again, I would want nothing more than to be hers, and she mine, and Carter ours. It was a little sappy, and she pretended to be unaffected by it all, but she ended up asking me on a Thursday. It wasn't a special day, and the proposal itself wasn't special. We were just turning in for the night, Carter asleep in the middle of our bed, and I remember she was being unusually quiet.

"Usually, she couldn't shut up about what she and Carter did all day, and I would have asked what was wrong if I didn't set my glasses on my night stand and turn back to her to find a ring right in front of my face. I actually yelped, and she grumbled, and Carter ended up waking up, and she said, 'I want to, and you said I should tell you when I'm ready.' Which was the least romantic proposal in existence, but I'm not even mad about it. The memory is a good one, and we got so few, so I'm holding on to them as tightly as possibly."

Memories are such fickle things.

Lena is a certified genius, and even she can't remember her mother's name. Her face. The way she smelt. Nothing. No more than a faceless woman who radiated warmth.

Sometimes, she thinks it's a blessing and, other times, it is a curse.

"We got married that Sunday," Carter's mother says. "It was small and perfect, with Carter and my family. There was nobody there for her, which was - it was okay, because she officially became ours, and I'm so glad we got to have that. That her last days were spent surrounded by her family. Being loved by us the way I wish we could have given her all her life; the way she deserved.

"She made it past her date, of course, because only she set her schedule," she goes on. "I don't know. I guess a part of me started to believe we got through it. We were past the worst. She survived. And maybe she started to think it, too, because, instead of planning for my replacement wife, she started planning for a honeymoon." Her voice gets soft with the memory. "She was - God, she was so strong. You wouldn't even know anything was happening to her. She was - she hid it really well. Even from me.

"And then there was a day. A random day in a sea of other random days. I woke up, like everything was normal. I usually woke before her, anyway, so I got out of bed, had a shower, got Carter ready for school, even put in the laundry _and_ started on breakfast. I thought, if ever she would go, I would _feel_ it, you know? Like, I would immediately know, but I actually left her still and cold in our bed and started my day as if things were normal.

"But I didn't feel it, and I took her breakfast in bed. I sat on the edge of her side of our bed, moved to shake her awake, and - " her voice catches, and Lena can hear it. Can feel it all. "I couldn't even - it was - it's like your worst nightmare multiplied by a million, because - because I cried out - she was just so cold - and then Carter was there, and I - I couldn't even breathe, and I - I replay it all over and over and I wish - wish with all my heart - that I could have been stronger for him in that moment. More composed. I should have hid him from it, but I - " she stops and she is quiet, just her laboured breathing.

Lena reaches for Sam's closer hand, gripping it tightly.

There is silence for such a long, long time, and Lena absently wonders how this radio station actually works, because they've really just let this woman talk uninterrupted for so long already.

Eventually, that same voice says, "Sorry." She clears her throat. "Wow, I just went and said that all, huh?"

Nia sniffs, right along with every other listener - including Lena. "If we weren't before, we are _very_ invested in finding you happiness now."

* * *

Kara sighs, wiping at her eyes as Nia, once again, vows to help make Carter's wish come true. It seems dangerous to want the same thing; not when she can't realistically see herself loving someone the way she loved her wife.

It was a short romance, intense and sometimes forbidden, but it was true and real and meaningful. And Kara still hasn't managed to work through what it truly means that she's gone forever and won't ever yell at her across a room or roll her eyes at Kara's patterned pyjama pants.

She's just gone.

A woman who was larger than life, just no more.

"She asked me once if she was the love of my life, and it was so easy to tell her no," Kara says. "She never could be, when Carter is."

It is as true today as it was when she answered, and as it will be tomorrow and every day after.

"And maybe that's what loving someone is about," Kara continues. "Maybe I loved her the way I loved her because of him, because I loved her so selfishly. But never him. Never Carter." She puffs out a breath. "I have been the most selfless with him, and I don't know how to be selfless with this."

"With what?"

"Another love," she says. "Because I would do anything for him, but I cannot do this."

"Love again?"

"Not in the way someone new would deserve."

Nia hums. "You sound so certain of it," she observes. "How can you be so sure?"

"I don't know," Kara breathes. "It's just, that kind of love, it doesn't happen twice. And, even if it did, what have I ever done to deserve it?"

* * *

Lena gets little sleep.

She's already a minimal sleeper, so it shouldn't be alarming, but it's the _reason_ that plays on her mind while she lies awake at three o'clock in the morning and repeatedly hears a stranger say the words _what have I ever done to deserve it_ that makes her tense.

Lena's been in therapy practically all her life. Her father sent her to a trauma counsellor as soon as she arrived at the Luthor Estate after the loss of her biological mother, worried over how quiet she was, and she just never stopped going.

It was always a comfort to know she had somewhere to go where she could just sit and talk. Without judgment and without expectations. She knows she's been through more than the average person, but also less, and it has taken quite a few sessions to get to this point where she's willing to -

To _be_.

She's still not sure what that all entails, if she's being honest, but she's as settled as she thinks she could be. She does a job she both loves and hates, doing good work with the brain and good fortune she's been given. She has employees loyal to her. She has Sam, who she's pushed away numerous times, and she's stayed.

She has good things.

Still, she knows something is missing.

This is what lack of sleep does to her, and she has to force herself to roll out of bed when her morning alarm sounds. She still has some time before she has to get to work, usually set aside for yoga or an increasingly-rare half-hour on the standing bicycle.

This morning, she does neither, and rather steps out onto her penthouse's balcony and takes in the sun as it rises. She once read about a woman who would 'eat' the sun for breakfast, as if its rays were enough to fuel her morning.

It's a romantic thought, in a way, but Lena's astutely aware of the relative impossibility of such a thing. She's a scientist, you see.

When the time comes, Lena rather has a small bowl of granola muesli and organic yoghurt.

She's still the left side of exhausted when she gets to the office, but Jess is already there, ready with a latte as she steps off the elevator to her floor, and she breathes out in relief. She manages to smile at her assistant, taking the offered cup while transferring over her numerous bags.

"Good morning, Miss Luthor," Jess says, voice steady in the way Lena appreciates as they begin their walk towards Lena's office. It constantly amazes Lena that the woman can manage to juggle so many things in her arms. "Your eight o'clock called to say he was running late. A Dr Herman Shepherd, wants to discuss your investing in one of his projects."

Lena raises her eyebrows at her.

"The idea is sound," Jess carefully says. "Just, _he's_ been known to be… unreliable."

Lena really doesn't like unreliable. "Go on."

"Mr Spheer called again," Jess says, and she sounds just as exasperated as Lena feels, because Jack is extremely persistent. "Mentioned he would be in town later this week and he would love to take you to dinner."

Lena suppresses a sigh. "I'll call him back later," she says, and she makes a mental note to do that - she owes him at least a call-back. "Any news from R&D about Project 1578?"

Jess pauses, looking through her tablet. "There is an email waiting for you in your inbox," she confirms.

"What does my afternoon look like?"

"A meeting with PR regarding next month's birthday celebration, but you asked me to block out some time for you to go down to the Labs, so I managed to shift some things around."

Lena stops right in front of her own office door and turns to look at Jess. "Have I given you your Christmas bonus yet?"

Jess blinks. "Um." The stutter is uncharacteristic. "You've given me four bonuses just this year," she points out.

Lena hums. "Give yourself another one."

For a moment, Jess looks as if she's about to argue, but she relents a beat later. She's smart enough to know she won't win against a determined Lena Luthor.

"Of course, Miss Luthor," Jess says with a nod, and Lena enters her office.

There is no evidence of her and Sam's late night anywhere before her. It's spotless, which Lena definitely appreciates, even if Sam claims it's unnerving never actually _seeing_ anyone clean.

Lena pays them enough never to be seen, even if she makes sure to know each one of their names.

With a wistful look out her floor-to-ceiling windows, Lena makes her way towards her desk, aware of Jess following behind her. Every day is busy and demanding in its own way, and this particular day is no different.

She meets Dr Herman Shepherd a half-hour behind schedule and isn't particularly impressed. She takes Jess' word for it that the idea he presents is interesting, so she vows to look at it in greater detail after he leaves.

She calls Jack during her Jess-imposed lunch break, and quietly thanks him for the flowers he's sent. She feels obliged to agree to meet him for dinner, which irritates her, because she's supposed to be better and stronger than this. She's perfectly fine as she is, with the people she has.

But she says yes and enjoys his enthusiasm as he starts listing the numerous restaurants he could take her to. She almost asks him to plan something different; something she wouldn't expect, but even she enjoys the comfort of the familiar.

There are too many unknowns in the unexpected, and Lena is a woman of science.

She's just finished up with Jack and started nibbling on her wilted salad when Sam comes by, her tablet in her hands. The expression on her face can only be described with the word _mischief_ , and Lena braces herself.

"She's famous," Sam says, handing over her tablet.

"Who's famous?"

"Carter's mother," Sam says, dropping into one of the chairs in front of Lena's desk. "Shit, these are uncomfortable."

"Makes sure nobody stays too long," Lena comments lightly as she looks down at the offered tablet. "What's this about Carter's mother? From last night?"

"She's famous," Sam says again. "She went viral last night. The Internet wants to find her a wife."

"What?"

"Look."

Lena _looks_. The screen shows an article with the headline: We Wish You a New Love, Carter's Mom. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, because that's just silly. She reads the first paragraph, intrigued right until the moment she sees the word bae. "Oh, my God."

"You should see what Twitter looks like," Sam says. "KX3P's Twitter profile has been inundated with mentions and tweets from all sorts of people wanting to know where they can sign up to be loved by a woman who speaks art into existence."

Lena blinks. "Sam?"

"It's in the article," she says, shrugging. "But you can't tell me it's not true. I was seeing colours listening to her talk about her wife. Who wouldn't want to experience that?"

"Are _you_ one of those people tweeting at KX3P?"

"I would be if I were younger and childless," she says with a wiggle of her eyebrows. "Like someone I know."

"Wow."

"Come on," Sam says, looking delighted. "I saw you, you know? I saw how affected you were by everything she said."

"That doesn't mean I want to marry her," Lena argues, voice a little high. "She could be anyone. She could be a liar, for all we know."

Sam rolls her eyes. "She's not," Sam says. "KX3P tweeted that she's very real, and that they've managed to get a postal address, which is where they'll send any letters people send to them addressed to Carter's Mom."

"Seriously?"

Sam nods, smile wide. "Seriously."

"The poor woman," Lena says. "Does she even know what's about to happen to her?"

"I'm pretty sure it's all Carter's doing," Sam says with a laugh. "The boy is determined to find his mother a new wife, apparently."

Lena hums. "Do you think he's really thought about it?" she asks. "What it would mean for him, if he were to succeed? A new wife is a new mother for him, and I - I don't want him to have that realisation too far down the line."

Sam's expression softens considerably. "I know this probably isn't something you want to hear - "

"Then don't say it."

" - but you're going to be an amazing mother one day."

Lena immediately looks away, jaw clenching. They're not talking about this. They're _never_ going to talk about this.

Sam sighs, realising she's perhaps pushed too far. "If you don't write a letter to this woman, I'll write it for you," she says, trying to sound threatening but falling flat.

Lena is thankful for the topic change, though the new topic doesn't make her any more comfortable. "And, what would you say?"

"That you want to jump her bones."

Lena laughs unexpectedly, surprised. "Sam, no," she says. "That's - no, that's what every other person is probably writing to her."

"And you'd want to stand out," Sam pokes.

"I just - that's not what I would write," Lena says, frowning slightly.

"Well, what _would_ you write?" Sam presses, shifting in her seat, her hands settling in her lap as she fiddles with something.

Lena leans back in her chair, abandoning her salad. Her fingers steeple at her chin, her thoughts drifting. What _would_ she write? What would she want this woman to know? This woman who has lost so much, and still questions whether she deserves more love from this life.

What makes them so different also makes them the same.

"I think I would tell her that she's doing great," Lena says. "I think too many people expect to handle loss in a certain way, and it makes them doubly irritated with themselves when they handle it differently. There is no wrong way. I should know."

Lena thinks about her biological mother, remembering so little of her that the loss she feels isn't attached to what she lost but rather what could have been. She thinks of her first boyfriend in high school, still too young to know much of anything beyond the sweat covering his palms and the cheese curds on his breath. She thinks of Jack and what he represented to her in college: a relationship that was meant to be an escape, but ended up adding weight to what she wanted from life.

She thinks about a baby. Barely there, and then gone like a wisp in the night. She thinks of a brother, who was once her salvation, but now reminds her of only a pain of misunderstanding. An adoptive mother who would rather see her moulded into perceived perfection than see her as already-perfectly moulded.

Lena thinks about loss and tells herself it is an ugly, thoughtless thing, and Carter's mother is doing fucking great.

"I would tell her not to worry so much about how she's coping," Lena continues. "Just that she is. I would tell her I admire her bravery, because it takes a courageous person to wake up every morning, put on her armour and get through the day. It is not easy, and I would tell her there are far less healthy ways to deal with loss, and I have gone through all of them."

Sam listens in silence, expression soft and full of understanding Lena isn't sure she deserves.

"I would also tell her she should be proud of Carter," Lena says. "That she is raising a young man who cares so much that he would give up parts of himself for her. Who loves in a way that asks nothing in return. I don't know if that's the love of a child to a parent, but I know that she can never consider herself undeserving of another love when her son can give it to her so easily and without expectation. It would be an insult to all who already love her and all who will come to love her to think them wrong for offering her that part of themselves.

"I would tell her it is never about what we deserve," Lena says. "We don't get to decide that. It isn't even about God or some higher power. It's about so much more than that, and isn't that a beautiful thing?" She breathes deeply, trying to force away her trembling bottom lip.

Sam notices, but she doesn't say anything.

"Human beings can be so cruel to those around them, but they can be the worst kind of creatures to themselves," Lena says. "If anyone knows the truth of that, it is me."

Silence stretches between them.

"I suppose that's what I would write," Lena says after a while. " _And_ that I would jump her bones, of course."

Sam lets out an unexpected laugh. "This woman would be so lucky to end up with you," she comments lightly.

"Well."

Sam sits for another few moments, her hands in her lap and an unreadable expression on her face. Lena is tempted to go back to work, or even to push through her lacklustre salad. Maybe she should ask Jess to get her a Big Belly Burger. She's convinced she deserves it.

Before Sam leaves, she comes around Lena's desk and gently kisses the top of her head. "You deserve all the good things," she murmurs, and then she's gone.

Lena is left with her own thoughts, emotions thrumming just under the surface of her skin. She gets like this sometimes; pulled so taut over everything she desperately tries to hold inside, and she wonders what it'll take to snap.

At least she has an afternoon in the labs to look forward to.

But, first, she has to endure her grossly overpaid Public Relations team telling her everything she needs to know about the marketing surrounding the first birthday of the rebranded L-Corp. It wouldn't usually be something worth celebrating, but she wants to mark the occasion with something special.

A mural, down in the foyer of her building.

The problem, it seems, is that even her powerful Luthor name can't get an artist to her standard to agree to the amount of work required in such a short amount of time.

Particularly not over the holidays.

"Find me someone," she says as she dismisses them, and then goes down to the second floor to immerse herself in the comfort of science for a few hours.

For a few hours, she can almost forget about what she or anyone else deserves, and that her best friend is a sneaky little shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Kara can't quite explain it, but it always seems as if all the other mothers at Carter's school are always just looking at her. She knows she's young, and she knows they're curious, but she really hates the way they stare.

This Friday morning is no different, though it feels multiplied. Like they're studying her, as if trying to figure her out. She's certain she even hears a few of them whispering about her as she drops Carter off in the morning, walking him right up to the main building and waving at his teacher when she lifts a hand in greeting.

The two of them went to school together, once upon a time, and now look at them.

On a typical day, Kara would return to Eliza's house and spend the morning dealing with emails from clients and evading commissions. Maybe she would stop at the grocery store on the way, picking up a few things they need. Maybe she would even pop in at the library and spend a few hours among the stacks in an attempt to keep herself occupied.

Maybe she would just drive home and crawl into her bed and pretend the great big world doesn't exist for a couple of hours.

Kara's still undecided when Alex calls, and she stays in her car in the parking lot while she answers. Alex is either going on shift or coming off, so she's going to be grumpy either way.

What Kara doesn't expect is to hear her sister say, "You're famous," with far too much cheer for this early in the morning.

"Excuse me?"

"I meant to call yesterday," Alex says; "but I'm calling now, and you're famous."

"I'm famous?"

"Carter's Mom."

Kara immediately groans, dropping her head onto her steering wheel with a soft thud. She ignores Alex's laughter as she says, "How did you even hear about that?"

"Um." Alex clears her throat. "From someone."

God. She's a terrible liar. "From your new lady friend, you mean," Kara teases, and she wishes this part of their interactions wasn't still so awkward.

Alex masterfully slides past it. "What even happened?" she asks.

Kara closes her eyes, suddenly wishing she could get a bear hug from her big sister. "Apparently, Carter called into the station to tell them his Christmas wish, which is apparently to find me a new wife, so I'll smile more."

Alex is silent on the other end.

Kara rolls her eyes. "You can laugh if you want to," she says. "It's - god, isn't it the funniest _and_ the saddest thing ever?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Alex says. "But, how does that relate to the fact a bunch of people are ready to propose to you now?"

"Oh wow," Kara says, laughing softly. "I don't even know. The radio host asked me a few questions, and I just kind of talked about - I talked about us a bit, and I guess people related to it?"

"Ah."

Kara hums. "Am I really famous?"

"You were actually trending on _Twitter_ , Kara," Alex says, and she sounds amused. "You're lucky people don't actually know who you are, because they probably wouldn't leave you alone if they did."

"It doesn't make sense."

"Sure it does," Alex says. "People want to give and receive love. It's really that simple."

Kara shifts in her seat. "What if I have nothing more left to offer?" she asks, voice a whisper.

"Do you honestly believe that's true?" Alex asks, and Kara can't answer. "Because, if you do, then that's something we'll deal with, but I don't think you've used up your capacity for love, Kara. You have always had a bottomless pit." She pauses. "Like your stomach."

Kara doesn't want to laugh, but she can't help it. "Thank you."

"Of course, Kara," she says. "You know I love you."

Kara feels something settle within her. Hmm. Maybe she _should_ pick up some more pop tarts on the way home. "I know," she says. "I love you too, Alex."

* * *

Jack has a bouquet of flowers when he arrives at Lena's apartment, and it takes a lot of control for her not to snicker. They're red roses, and they scream romance in a way Lena finds herself wanting to resist.

Still, she takes them from him and presses a kiss to his cheek. His cologne is familiar, bringing her comfort, and she's sure she can get through this evening. He's charming and their senses of humour align in an impressive way.

They fit so well, and he's exactly the man Lillian would want for her. _Now_. Maybe not always. Not when they were first starting out, working to discover all the ways they could save the world from inside a dark laboratory.

Now, he's successful and distinguished, and he's come back to her, wanting to try it all again. Wanting to _make_ it work this time around. After everything they've been through, doesn't she owe him at least that?

What she does give him is all her attention over dinner, her focus on only him. She knows he's always been able to tell when she's distracted, pouting until her eyes are on him. That is all he asks of her: just her.

But that is not all she is. She is her past and her memories, and she cannot - cannot - forget the way his voice dropped with relief when he said the words, _maybe this is for the best, Lena_.

Sometimes, she looks at him and it's all she sees: Jack, still so young, his future planned out before him, shoulders slumped with relief.

Sometimes, she looks at him and she hates.

Other times, she loves.

And that is why she sits here and listens to him tell her a story about one of the new interns in his lab, and smiles and smiles.

* * *

It's three days after Carter's first call that the letters start arriving, delivered straight to their door and received by Eliza, who is more bemused by everything. Much to Kara's increasing horror.

Carter, on the other hand, is absolutely delighted.

Ecstatic, even.

Honestly, Kara hasn't seen a smile that wide on him since the previous year's Christmas, and she can't even be mad about it. Irritated, yes, beyond annoyed and a little confused about how the radio station even managed to get their address, but never mad.

Well, she's confused until Carter says, "They called and I told them."

Kara stares at him a little too long, this moment just another reminder about having that talk with him about privacy. His mother worked too hard protecting him from her growing empire for him just to give away his personal information without thought.

It's not a conversation she expected she would have to have with him. Dealing with the public was always her wife's expertise, Kara content to let her be. Now, she knows that was a mistake, because she, out of all people, should have known human beings do not live forever.

"Do they know who you are?" Kara asks him, worry prickling at the back of her neck. Because, if they figure out who he is, they could figure out who his mother is, and then who Kara is.

Taking him to school would be a lot more difficult if that were to happen.

"I'm Carter," he says, entirely too easily, and she envies how easy it can be to be seven years old.

"You're Carter," she echoes, because it sounds so simple when he says it.

"Carter Evan Grant," he says proudly, even puffing out his chest.

Kara kisses the top of his head where he's sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen, skinny legs dangling off the edge. "Never change, my heart," she tells him.

"Change into what?" he asks, brow furrowed.

Kara just shakes her head and takes in the sheer volume of letters on the island in front of them. "What are we supposed to do with all of these, then?" she asks, and nearly jumps out of her skin when Eliza walks into the kitchen.

Eliza just smiles. "Read them?" she suggests.

"No way," Kara says.

"We have to," Carter insists. "She could be in one of these letters."

"Who?" Kara asks.

"Your new wife."

Kara looks at Eliza for some help, but the older woman just continues to smile that infuriating smile that Kara knows from when she was a teenager. The one she smiles when Alex teases her until she asks for Eliza to step in, and she just doesn't.

Kara is on her own to face the puppy eyes of her annoyingly-adorable son.

Well.

"Carter," Kara says carefully. "Buddy, you know the chances of that happening are low, right?"

Carter looks at her, all innocence, and Kara feels like a terrible human being. "Why?" he asks. "She could be right here, and you wouldn't even know."

Despite her complete reluctance to participate, the snobby part of her is quite certain that she wouldn't be attracted someone who would send a letter. Maybe it's not entirely true, but it explains her feelings towards the letters beyond the fact it's a little creepy.

Kara looks at the letters again, frowning. "Carter," she says. "I - I don't think this is a good idea."

"Can't we still try?" he presses. "It wouldn't hurt to try, right? You say that all the time."

Kara looks at Eliza, incredulous expression on her face. Like, the nerve of this boy just using her words against her.

"Please," Carter says, and he smiles with all his teeth.

God. Kara isn't a _monster_. "Fine," she gives in. "Okay, but you have to accept that it's unlikely one of these letters is going to be the one. Okay?"

He nods, and then immediately reaches for an envelope. Kara just shakes her head as she goes to make herself some coffee.

She doesn't really think about it. And, frankly, neither does Eliza, because she's also standing right there, because Kara doesn't realise just what she's agreed to until she's pouring her coffee and hears Carter ask in his tiny voice, "Mommy, what's a, uh, strap-on?"

Kara has never moved so fast in her life, abandoning the coffee, spinning around and snatching the letter right out of his hands.

Carter looks just as surprised as Kara feels, and she looks at Eliza, who's also just staring at her in shock.

"Oh, my God," Eliza says, and then they both burst out laughing, Carter looking between them in confusion.

"Mommy, what?"

Kara just shakes her head, carefully refolding the letter and replacing it in its envelope. Then she chucks it right in the trash.

Eliza moves around the island and fills up the remainder of her coffee for her. "Looks like we have a long day ahead of us," she says, and Kara would happily leave them to it if she could.

But then Carter looks at her with those eyes too familiar, and she just knows she would move heaven and earth for her little boy.

What's a letter or two?

* * *

"What is it with this man and flowers?"

Lena just smiles, amused by Sam's entrance. There's a monstrous bouquet sitting on the low table in front of Lena's couch, and Sam bypasses it as if some kind of creature is going to jump out at her.

"Did he get some kind of discount from a florist or something?" Sam asks as she moves to sit on one of the chairs opposite Lena's desk. "Or, better yet, did he actually _buy_ a florist, and all they do is send _you_ flowers?"

Lena shakes her head. "Perhaps," she offers. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, and no," she says. "What are the chances you can be out of here before six o'clock tonight?"

"Why?"

"Not an answer to my question, Lena."

"What would I be doing if I were to be able to get out of here by six o'clock?"

"Babysitting Ruby."

Lena raises her eyebrows, tempted to ask. She's been doing quite a bit more babysitting the past few weeks, but Sam hasn't quite clued her into the reasons why.

Well.

"Okay."

Sam sputters a little. "Okay? That's it? You aren't even going to - you know what. Okay. Thank you."

"Anytime, Sam," she says, and she means it. "Ruby are going to have all the fun in the world without you. We both know I'm the favourite."

"Maybe you can help get her started on her science project," Sam says, ignoring Lena's comment. "She was talking about perpetual motion last night, and I definitely zoned out."

"You always pretend you don't understand."

"Just because I understand doesn't mean I _like_ it," Sam points out. "You two can go be nerds together."

"And you can go do whoever you're going to do."

"Excuse me?"

Lena smiles, all innocence. "I said you can go do _what_ ever you're going to do."

Sam gives her a particular look. "Hmm, that's exactly what I thought you said."

* * *

When the phone rings on Wednesday evening after Carter has gone to sleep, Kara doesn't think too much about having to answer it.

She should have known her son wouldn't just let it go that she's not interested in finding herself a new wife. Because, when Kara answers, Nia Nal is on the other end of the line, and she sounds as if she's expecting Kara to talk to her.

Something Carter conveniently failed to mention to her.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh," Nia says. "Carter didn't tell you, did he?"

"Tell me what?"

"We're dedicated now," Nia says. "To finding you new love and happiness, and we're going to be following your journey with a short segment every Wednesday to check in on how it's going."

Kara's mouth opens, and then closes.

"Hello?"

Kara clears her throat. "You've really got to stop talking to my son," she says, but it comes out half-hearted.

"All we want is to help," Nia assures her. "We've got you pencilled in at the same time every week."

"We might be here for years," Kara quips, not entirely joking.

"As long as it takes," Nia assures her.

It shouldn't offer her comfort, but Kara takes what she can get. "Do I have a choice?" she asks.

"You always have a choice," Nia tells her; "but something tells me you wouldn't want to disappoint Carter."

"Hmm, using my own son against me."

"Guilty."

Kara takes a deep breath. "So, how exactly are we supposed to do this?" she asks. "I'm sure I already said everything I could say the last time we talked." It actually makes her uncomfortable just how much she revealed about her grief. She's not a fan of being vulnerable that way, but she thinks the anonymity has really helped.

"Well," Nia says; "how about you tell us how your week has been?"

"My week?"

"Anything at all," Nia says. "We're here if you're willing to share."

Kara fiddles with a loose thread on the edge of her sweater. "My week has been okay, thank you. Carter and I took apart another radio over the weekend, and he put it back together all by himself."

"He likes radios?"

"At the moment, yes," Kara tells her. "He goes through interests quite regularly. I would hesitate to call them hyper-fixations, but they're something similar. When he's interested in something, he immerses himself in it, almost without regard for anything else. Then he burns himself out and moves onto something else, always with the chance of reclaiming that fixation at another time." She chuckles softly. "We have a lot of boxes and a lot of labels."

Though, she doesn't admit most of those boxes and those labels aren't actually here with them in Midvale. No, they're back in National City; in a home Kara can't quite bring herself to return to when it holds every memory of a life lost too soon.

"It's why I'm so worried about this new mission he's set for himself," Kara says.

"To find you a new wife."

"He'll exhaust himself with it, and I - I don't - it's just unlikely this is going to end well for any of us." It's a truth she just knows, already predicting impending heartache.

It's fine _now_ , while he's still excited about the letters and the shiny new mission he's set for himself, but she knows she won't be able to deliver on his Christmas wish and the last thing she wants to do is disappoint him. "I practically had to force him to go to bed tonight, because all he wants is to stay up and read all these letters you've sent us."

"Ah, so you've received the letters then?" Nia asks, and Kara rolls her eyes. "Carter gave us your address."

"Oh, I've received the letters, all right," she grumbles. "There are so many of them."

"You're very popular," Nia says. "People want you to find love again."

"That's not what the letters say," Kara lets her know. "I made the mistake of letting Carter start reading them and I now have to find a way to explain what a, um, just things that children should not know about, without actually explaining them."

Nia laughs softly. "We probably should have censored them," she says.

"I have my mother doing it now," Kara tells her. "Carter's delighted by it all, of course, and my mother is enjoying his enthusiasm."

"What about you?"

"My thoughts on the letters?"

"Anyone stand out to you?"

"Oh, plenty," Kara says, laughing softly. "But not in the sense you're asking. I - I don't know how a single letter would lead me to some unknown person."

"You just haven't read the right letter then," Nia says, and Kara appreciates her optimism.

Kara will hold onto Nia's optimism while she's still trying to reclaim her own.

* * *

Sam tells Lena about Carter's mother's new segment first thing Thursday morning, and sends her links to some of the best tweets from all the people who are _thirsty_ for her.

Lena reads some, but they irritate her more than they amuse her and she's trying not to think about why that is.

Sam also sends her a link to a recording of the segment, and Lena listens to it while she goes through all the artists her PR team has suggested for her. She hears the way Carter's mother goes from confused to apprehensive to resigned, and all the way to when she actively participates.

Lena finds herself smiling every few moments, the sound of the woman's voice a strange comfort during her very busy, very trying day. The buzz around her hasn't faded, but it also hasn't increased, and Lena tries not to feel too strange about her continued interest.

It's for Science.

Sam's encouraging it, anyway, and she sends almost fifteen messages asking Lena if she's finished writing the letter she's meant to be sending.

Lena calls her an idiot and complains about her struggle to find an artist to take on the job. It's playing on her mind rather extensively, because every day that goes by is one less day they have to get the work complete.

Sam sends back, _maybe you should send your letter and ask Carter's mother to get her fingers on your mural_. It is meant to sound dirty, and so it does. Lena calls her an idiot again, and then forces herself to get back to work.

She does not think about Carter's mother, or the way some unnamed, faceless woman has managed to carve some space in her mind that Lena wasn't sure was available.

* * *

Kara doesn't intend to show any interest in the letters, but it's really difficult to ignore them when Carter won't let her. He practically drags her into his bedroom where there are nearly a hundred letters spread out on his carpet, and she would really rather be doing anything else in the world.

"Carter," she complains, deeply aware she's whining.

"Look," he says. "You have to see."

Oh, she's definitely seeing. "I thought I told you that you're not allowed to read them without Grandma's looking at them first," she points out.

"These are the ones Grandma's looked at," he says, and literally pulls her onto the ground with him.

Kara flops down like a fish, and Carter giggles at her display. "Grandma read all of these?" she asks again, because these are a lot of letters. And, based on what Eliza was telling her, a lot of them definitely weren't fit for children's eyes.

"These are the ones she said meet her ap - approval," he says, frowning slightly. "Does that mean she's okay with them?"

Kara nods, heart bursting with pride. He's just so smart.

"That means they need my approval as well," he says, bouncing a little as he shifts onto his knees and starts moving letters around. "We should make piles," he says. "Yes and No. Based on the list."

Ah.

The list.

She always knew it would come back to haunt her.

It's something of a joke now, but it started seriously. Reasons her wife gave for why they wouldn't ever work; why they were so incompatible when they're backs were against the wall and their mutual feelings were out on the open. They were silly reasons, of course, and highlighted severely by their respective ages.

Then they started dating, and the list became a running joke whenever they would be faced with their other differences - like Kara's love for pickles and her wife's absolute hatred of them.

Carter learned about the list only after her wife got sick, the list that started off seriously and turned into a joke becoming something serious once more. Kara played along only because it seemed to bring her comfort knowing they would be okay once she was gone.

And then she was.

They're not quite okay, and Carter is convinced what they need is this silly list to fix them.

Kara just crosses her legs in front of her and gives in to the next half-hour of her life as her very adorable son reads letters to her and giggles whenever he reads his own name in the words these people have written.

What surprises Kara the most is that not all of them _are_ women, and not all of them are actually propositions. Some letters just express sorrow for their loss and wish them well, and Carter creates a third pile for 'Strangers Who Care About Us.'

She is both endeared and horrified when Carter vows to respond to every single one.

By the time it's time for him to go to bed, the Yes pile has only three letters, and he makes her promise to read them again by herself before she goes to sleep.

She doesn't even hesitate, and then tucks him in and makes sure his nightlight is on. She tells him she loves him, but neither of them could possibly quantify just how much.

"Don't forget," he mumbles around a yawn. "Read the letters."

As if Kara would break her promise.

She waits a little while as he slowly drifts to sleep, and then she grabs the three letters he's set aside for her. She vaguely recalls what they say, but she's honouring her son's wishes.

She gets to them only once she's said goodnight to Eliza and crawled into bed. She shifts around, trying to get comfortable, before she reaches for the first letter. Mercifully, it's short, and it's basically a woman named Nadine telling her that she would love to get to know her better, and she should call her. There's even a phone number, and Kara appreciates the way she's put herself out there.

The second letter is similar, though Nora explains a bit more about herself. She's an elementary school teacher, who lives in Kentucky. She has two dogs and loves the game Candyland. She says she, too, lost her wife recently, and she's available if ever Kara wants to talk. Or not talk.

Kara can tell she is kind and she has lovely handwriting. But Kara also knows, even if she were available, they would never work out. She can't tell how she knows, but she just does.

The third letter is accompanied by a picture of a woman - thankfully, just a simple selfie - and a contact number. Which, okay.

Having kept her promise, Kara slides further into her bed and wonders how it is that there are this many people so lonely that they would offer so many pieces of themselves to a complete stranger.

It is a sobering thing to realise how much pain is actually shared.

* * *

"Oh, my God."

Sam startles at Lena's outburst, but Lena doesn't even notice as she clicks her computer mouse a little too forcefully.

"At this rate, I may as well just paint the damn thing myself," Lena mutters to nobody in particular.

Sam just studies her closely, watching her friend display emotions she normally wouldn't. It is both worrying and wonderful to witness her be so human. "Still no luck with an artist?"

Lena huffs. "I don't understand it," she says. "Wouldn't these people _want_ my money? I pay handsomely."

"What's the excuse this time?"

"Going home for the holidays," Lena mutters. "This one said it just wasn't enough time, and this other one said my mural idea doesn't quite fit with his brand. Like, what the hell?"

Sam knows she shouldn't, but she can't help her smile, because Lena Luthor who is _affected_ is a sight to behold.

"This is not funny, Sam," Lena says, and she sounds suspiciously close to a petulant child. "Why can't I just find someone with no other work and no obligations?"

"You're asking too much."

"I'm asking just enough, thank you very much," she says, sniffing. "It's - I don't know why this is so important to me, but it is. We've survived an entire year of a company with a new focus. They doubted we could remain profitable without government contracts and weapons manufacturing, but we've done so much good, and I just want somebody to paint something that damn well says that."

Sam watches her, always so moved by the way Lena shows her passion. It is normally controlled, but there is importance in this mural neither of them quite understands, and Sam is about to do the second sneaky thing in relation to her best friend in as many days.

Lena will either thank or kill her.

Perhaps both.

* * *

Carter turns it into a thing.

Letters keep arriving, Eliza keeps screening them, and Carter keeps dragging Kara up to his bedroom a half-hour before bed so they can go through them together.

The Yes pile is steadily growing, and Kara has read letters from Lionel, Erica, Ariadne, Timothy, Jane, Trisha and Rihanna by the time Carter practically jumps onto her and says, "I found her, I found her."

Kara gets an elbow to the ribs and a scream right in her ear, but she smiles just the same as she steadies him and quietly asks what he's going on about.

It's Sunday and he's supposed to be napping.

Instead, he's waving a letter right in her face and telling her he's found Kara's new wife with all the certainty of a seven-year-old who has yet to experience romantic love.

This has been a worry for Kara, of course, that he would find a letter written by someone and fixate on it; that he would build a fantasy around some woman's words and make the mistake of believing in something that could never be a reality.

She hates that it's come so soon.

She doesn't know how she's supposed to keep evading his mission to find her a wife when he seems to have found one.

Carter shoves the letter at her. "Read it," he demands.

Kara gives him a look. " _Carter_."

He pouts, but his excitement tempers and he says, "Sorry, Mommy." He sets the letter very carefully in her lap. "Please read it," he says. "I like her. She sounds nice. I think she would be perfect."

Kara watches his lower lip shake as he says the words, and she wonders if this is the moment he realises just what he's asking of her. Just what they would be giving up in pursuit of someone else.

Kara isn't ready for such a thing, and she doubts he is, either.

"Carter," she says again.

His bottom lip still trembles. "Please will you just read it?"

Kara sets the letter aside and pulls him into her lap, comforted by the weight of him. "Why don't we read it together, hmm?" she suggests, and she feels him settle against her chest.

"She's perfect, Mommy," Carter tells her, reaching for the letter and placing it in Kara's hands. "She also has really nice handwriting."

Kara would at least agree with the second part, though it is on the smaller side.

_Dear Carter's Mom,_

_Like many, I'm sure, I did not expect to be so moved by your words and your story when I heard it. Initially, I didn't want to send this letter. It felt wrong in a way, to send you something with the intent of alleviating my own curiosity, but perhaps there is something to be found in being selfish._

_What I wanted to tell you is that you are doing great. I think too many people expect to handle loss in a certain way, and it makes them doubly irritated with themselves when they handle it differently. There is no wrong way. I should know. I won't burden you with my own, but there is something shared here that prompted my writing this letter, and I hope you won't hold it against me._

_I want to tell you not to worry so much about how you're coping. Just that you are. I admire your bravery, because it takes a courageous person to wake up every morning, put on your armour and get through the day. It is not easy, and there are far less healthy ways to deal with loss, and I have gone through all of them. Do what you need to, and think nothing of it._

_You should also be proud of Carter. You are raising a young man who cares so much that he would give up parts of himself for you. Who loves in a way that asks nothing in return. I don't know if that's the love of a child to a parent, but I know that you can never consider yourself undeserving of another love when your son can give it to you so easily and without expectation. It would be an insult to all who already love you and all who will come to love you to think them wrong for offering you that part of themselves._

_Because, what I have learned is that it is never about what we deserve. We don't get to decide that. It isn't even about God or some higher power. It's about so much more than that, and isn't that a beautiful thing?_

_Human beings can be so cruel to those around them, but they can be the worst kind of creatures to themselves. If anyone knows the truth of that, it is me. Let me tell it to you now, so you don't have to learn it for yourself._

_You deserve good things. You and Carter. Your wife would want that for you, and I dare you to try to tell me otherwise. I will debate you on this and I will win, because we both know I'm right. I usually am._

_Please take care, both of you, and I hope you find what you're looking for, even if you don't know you're looking._

_L_

Kara reads the letter a second time, and then a third. She didn't even know these were words she needed until they're in front of her, glaring and obvious and _true_. They settle in her veins, spreading to the tips of every appendage, reminding her of their truth.

"Mommy," Carter whispers, and Kara glances down.

"Hmm?"

"You're smiling," he points out, almost too softly to be heard. Almost as if he can barely believe it himself.

And, it's the moment she realises she actually is smiling.

Well.

Would you look at that.

It seems she'd agree with the first part, too.

* * *

Jess tells her, "There's another bouquet from Mr Spheer," when Lena arrives on Monday morning, and Lena would love nothing more than to turn right back around and go home.

Lena sighs. "Please put him on my schedule for the day," she says, knowing she'll have to call to thank him for the vase. It's what's expected from her, and she once thought she moved on from doing what was expected of her.

It's just that there's safety in Jack. He very obviously likes her, and he isn't thrown off by her family. He's _interested_ in her, and shouldn't that be the be-all and end-all?

For some reason, she thinks of Carter's mother - not that Lena doesn't spend a worrying amount of time already doing that - but this particular moment feels significant. Lena wouldn't be able to tell anyone why.

She looks at Jess, words on the tip of her tongue.

Jess is ready, waiting and expectant.

Lena shakes her head. "Please get me updates on Project 1487," she says, not entirely sure what she was going to say in the first place. It would have been something not strictly professional between boss and assistant, but Lena burns with the desire to talk to someone who isn't Sam or her therapist about how she feels about Jack.

"And call Dinah from PR," Lena adds. "I want to know if they've found me an artist already. It's just getting ridiculous."

Jess nods. "I'll get right on it."

At least that's one thing that's constant. Jess has never let her down.

* * *

While she won't admit it, Kara now hesitates before she reaches for the phone when it rings. Not that Nia would be calling at this time of day, but she always feels a little nervous at merely the thought of sharing more of her heartache with strangers.

When the phone rings now, it's just Alex, though Kara still answers a little warily, because it's unlike Alex to call her during a workday. She's always focused when she's at work, intense in a way that makes her brilliant at her job. She wouldn't take time out of her working hours for just any social chat with her sister.

"Are you on a break?" is how Kara answers as she steps close to the window in her childhood bedroom, just because she knows it'll irritate her sister.

"Hello to you too, dear sister," Alex drawls, and Kara's smile grows, eyes on the ocean view. "How are you, you ask, oh I'm great."

"You're an idiot."

"But you love me."

Kara pauses, hearing something specific in Alex's voice. "What did you do?" she asks.

"Nothing," Alex immediately says, and it comes out far too high-pitched to be the truth. "Nothing," she repeats. "I've done nothing. Nope. That's _not_ why I'm calling you."

Kara breathes deeply, ever patient. She's had to learn to wait people out in the past few years, being faced with an irritatingly-proud wife and an adorably shy son. Alex's kryptonite is her guilt, and it doesn't take very long for her to give in to her little sister's silence.

"I did a thing," Alex starts. "I think you're going to be mad."

"Alex, my son is currently on a mission to find me a new wife, so I think you'll be okay," Kara says, attempting to joke but deeply aware she's fallen flat. "Just tell me what you did and we'll figure out if I'm going to be as mad as you think."

"Okay." She sighs. "Remember that woman I mentioned."

"The one you're maybe dating but won't tell me about because you think I can't handle watching other people be happy in relationships, yes, I remember."

Alex clears her throat. "Right, well, I mean, I like her," she says. "I like her a lot, Kara."

Kara smiles to herself, just knowing how difficult it must be for her sister to say the words out loud. Especially after her last breakup. It _must_ be serious for Alex, then. "I'm really happy for you, Alex," she says, and she means it.

"I'm super glad to hear that, because I need a _massive_ favour," Alex says, and her voice does the thing Kara hates. Both she and Eliza do it when they're about to say something they think Kara won't be able to handle. Kara would call it patronising if she didn't know they do it only because they care so much.

"What is it?"

Alex hesitates for a moment, and then practically blurts, "She was complaining about trying to find someone to paint a mural for her work's upcoming birthday and I may have mentioned that my sister's an artist and she might have asked me to ask you if you could do something on such short notice, and so I did and I'm asking you, and she called me her hero, and please please please will you - "

"Alex."

Alex's mouth snaps shut with an audible click of her teeth.

Admittedly, Kara's first instinct is to say no. It's right there on the tip of her tongue, because Alex knows - she _knows_ \- that Kara hasn't touched a paintbrush in months. Not since -

It's been a while, and Alex knows this, and Kara can't understand why her sister would - why would she -

"Kara?" Alex says, voice barely a whisper.

Kara shakes her head, trying to clear it, and then whispers, "I'll think about it," before she hangs up. Her hand drops to her side and she looks away from the window, struck again by the awful, awful dichotomy that the one thing that once brought her joy now brings her pain.

* * *

"I did a thing."

The only visible reaction the words get out of Lena is the slow arch of her left eyebrow.

Sam doesn't exactly squirm, but they both know what an eyebrow-arch means. "Okay, so I've done several things," Sam says. "But, in my defence, this Christmas period has been busy for all of us, and I - "

"What did you do?"

Sam fiddles with her pen, turning it over in her hand. "I met someone." She sighs. "I really like this someone. Probably enough to let them meet Ruby."

That definitely gets Lena's attention, because Sam has been so careful with who gets to meet Ruby in the past.

"I know," Sam says, amused at herself. "I just - I really like her."

"Her, hmm?"

"You don't get all the quota on women, you know," Sam jokes, and then pauses. "You know, I don't think we've ever dated women at the same time."

"Sam."

"No, I mean," she laughs; "just that when you're dating men, I'm not, and vice versa."

"I don't see why that's important," Lena says, frowning. She can't imagine it being some subconscious thing they do. It's merely a coincidence, and not important.

"It probably means you're going to end up agreeing to date Jack again," Sam points out, and Lena can't explain how suffocating the idea of such a thing makes her feel. "But, anyway, I'm telling you about my new girlfriend."

" _Is_ she your girlfriend?"

"Well, no, but she's about to be," Sam says, proudly grinning. "Which brings me to the other thing I did." She pauses for dramatic effect. "I found you an artist."

"Excuse me?"

"To paint your mural," Sam clarifies. "You've just been complaining endlessly about not getting someone in time to paint the mural you want in the foyer up to your standards, and I found someone."

"Who?"

"Alex's sister."

"Who's Alex?"

Sam opens her mouth, and then closes it. Opens it again. "My girlfriend."

"Who's not your girlfriend," Lena comments lightly, smiling when Sam gives her the finger. "This is the first time you've mentioned her name, and what's this about her sister?"

"Right, her name is Alex," Sam says, and automatically smiles as if she just can't help it when faced with thoughts of the woman. "Totally hot, by the way. Like, smoking hot, Lena. She also has a motorcycle. I can barely contain myself half the time."

"The sister, Sam."

"You used to be more excited about my relationships."

"I promise we'll gush about your new belle when we're no longer on the clock, okay?"

Sam eyes her critically, and then seems to accept her words. "Alex has a sister who's an artist, and she said she would ask if she could come into the city to take a look at where you want the piece and what she could do."

Lena blinks slowly. "Sam, honey, do you even know if Alex's sister is _good?"_

"She must be," Sam insists. "I'm certain Alex wouldn't have recommended her if she wasn't. She knows how important this is to me, because of how important it is to _you_."

"What's her name?"

"What?"

"Alex's sister," Lena says, leaning forward to open her web browser on her computer. "What's her name? If she's any good, surely we'll be able to find some of her work. What if she's an Impressionist-type?"

"I've seen some of her work," Sam says. "Alex has a few pieces at her place."

Lena's smirk spreads slowly across her face. "Does she have one in her bedroom?" she asks, almost offhandedly.

Sam nods. "She does," she says; "it's this amazing red - _hah_." She rolls her eyes. "Of course I've been in her bedroom, Lena. And in her kitchen. On her carpet. In her shower."

"Okay, okay," Lena says, laughing softly. "I get it; you're satisfied."

"Very."

Lena shakes her head, still amused. "Tell me about the sister."

Sam sighs. "It's a little odd, actually," she says. "Alex doesn't talk about her in a recent way, if that makes sense. More of her stories are from when they were younger, but very little about the last year or so."

"Why?"

"I've never actually asked," Sam says, crease in her brow. "She gets almost melancholy whenever she comes up, so I was doubly surprised when she mentioned her at all. I didn't even know the paintings were Kara's until Alex told me."

"Kara," Lena absently says, her fingers automatically typing the name into her search bar. "With a K?"

Sam nods.

"Surname?"

"Danvers."

Lena types it in, hits Enter, and comes back with nothing. Her brow creases, because even if her art isn't on display, there would at least be _something_. "Are you sure?"

Sam leans forward. "That's definitely Alex's surname," she says. "I've seen it on her super fancy hospital ID."

Lena glances up. "You're dating a doctor?"

"Kind of dating," she automatically corrects. "But yes, she's a neurosurgeon. Very good with her hands." She laughs when Lena gives her an unimpressed look. "She works out of Old Budapest."

"That's a block away."

Sam grins. "We were always meant to meet each other, you see."

"Oh, is _that_ why you're never in your office when I stop by for lunch?" she teases, and enjoys the way Sam suddenly grows a little shy. "Her sister doesn't exist."

"She definitely exists," Sam says, taking out her phone. "Alex has pictures in her apartment. She's stunning, by the way. Maybe we'll actually end up dating women at the same time." She waggles her eyebrows suggestively as she types something on her phone.

Lena ignores her, instead typing in 'Alex Danvers' into her browser. The name, at least, garners some results, and there's a hospital profile on her, right above a private _Instagram_ account. There are a handful of articles where her name pops up, particularly from her time at National City University, and Lena raises her eyebrows at some of the titles, making a note to pick Alex's brain should they meet.

"Alex says they don't share a surname," Sam reads from her phone, frowning slightly. "Apparently, they never have. She says, if we want to see her work, we should search for an artist known as Supergirl."

Lena looks at her in disbelief. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Just type it in and let's see what comes up," Sam says, getting to her feet and walking around Lena's desk to be able to see her screen as well. She's just about settled when Lena's completed the search, and there are many, many hits.

"Oh wow," Lena says, a little breathless at the first image that comes up. It's listed as Supergirl's most known painting, currently housed in her personal gallery in downtown National City, and titled 'Rao's Light.'

Lena has never seen anything like it.

There is just something about the colours; something that doesn't seem of this Earth.

"Go to the gallery's website," Sam instructs, a hand on the back of Lena's chair. Lena does as she's told, switching to a different tab, all while trying to catch her breath.

Why is she even breathless?

The gallery, itself, has no name, just an address. The word 'Supergirl' is also nowhere to be found, and everything about it intrigues Lena in a way that's foreign when it comes to other human beings. Why does Lena know nothing about this particular artist?

Because, instead of a name, there is just a symbol. It looks like an 'S' within a pointed quadrilateral, though Lena imagines its meaning is more complicated than that.

"She's good," Sam says, a little bit in wonder. "She's _really_ good."

Lena would have to agree, carefully scrolling through the virtual gallery. There are several mediums of art on display, including photographs, and there's a particular one of the top of a toddler's head, palms facing upwards, that Lena stares at for a little too long. There are wisps of hair and sticky fingers, and she swears she can _hear_ the laughter that must have existed as the picture was taken.

She must stare at it for an eternity, because Sam's hand moves to her shoulder and squeezes gently. There are words Lena knows Sam won't ever say, but she does say, "You should come over for dinner tonight. Ruby's been missing her Aunt Lena."

Lena looks over her shoulder at her, sees the kindest eyes she's faced, and warms considerably. "That sounds lovely."

"You've just made me the coolest Mom, ever," Sam says. "I can't wait to tell her."

Lena leans into her seat once more, feeling a little unsettled. She clears her throat. "Do you really think Alex could get her sister to paint our mural?" she asks. "It seems... off-brand?"

"Alex is probably calling in a favour," Sam says.

"Because she wants to impress you," Lena guesses. "Some badass neurosurgeon she is, hmm?"

"She's terrifying."

"I bet she's putty when you're around."

"I can neither confirm nor deny."

Lena hums, hands settling in her lap as she turns her chair slightly. Sam is leaning against the table along her back wall, hands gently gripping the edges. "So, she hasn't met Ruby yet?"

"No, not yet," Sam says. "She knows about her, though, and always asks after her. It's really cute how interested she is. Makes me hopeful this one won't run when the whole 'parent' thing really kicks in."

Lena wouldn't say she has some kind of nervous tick, but her mother - the adoptive one, Lillian - once told her that her eyes stray when she's thinking something she knows she shouldn't. Like now, her gaze drifts to Sam's knees, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind.

"Hey."

Lena's head snaps up. "Hey."

"Let me get Supergirl for you," Sam says, voice gentle. "We can worry about all that other stuff another time."

"Other stuff?"

Sam quirks an eyebrow. "You planning on taking Jack up on his offer?"

And... Lena promptly kicks her out.

* * *

Alex calls twice and sends seven messages before Kara feels ready to talk.

In that time, she walks into and straight back out of what was her teenage studio, places a call to her gallery to make sure everything is still running as it should, fetches Carter from school, makes them both an afternoon snack and blatantly asks her son what he thinks about her starting to paint again.

She has to remind herself he's only seven years old when he says, "I don't know why you stopped in the first place," around a slice of apple. "I still do the things I love because it's like she's still here when I do."

Well then.

He definitely didn't get his smarts from her.

Carter catches a nap shortly after, and Kara calls Alex back.

The conversation they have is quick because Alex is on the clock, but Kara agrees to a single meeting. "That's all, Alex," she insists. "I'm making no promises."

"Okay," Alex says. "I - thank you for doing this. I didn't mean to put you on the spot."

Kara closes her eyes, imagines gentle fingers on the back of her neck. "I know," she says. "You do tend to lose your cool around pretty women."

"I do not," she immediately argues, and then laughs. "Maybe I do, because this one is extremely pretty, Kara."

"You're cute."

"I am _not_ cute," Alex insists, almost automatically. "If one of us is the cute one, it's you."

"Agree to disagree," Kara quips. "Though, if we're talking cuteness, I reckon Carter wins, hands down."

"Not even a competition."

Kara sighs, the fingers of her free hand tapping against her thigh. "I can come into the city on Friday," she says. "I have to stop by the gallery, anyway. Apparently, I have important things to sign."

"I'm sure Winn is just missing you."

"Hmm."

There are muffled sounds on Alex's end of the line, and then she comes back to say, "I need to get going."

"Duty calls, I know."

"I'll call you later, okay?" Alex says. "I want to see you when you're here."

Kara says nothing in response, and she hears Alex let out a defeated sigh.

"I have to go," Alex says. "Talk to you later." And then she hangs up.

Kara doesn't move for a long, long time. She remains perfectly still, standing in the Danvers' kitchen and trying not to think about what she's just signed herself up for.

One thing at a time.

She'll go to this meeting, and hopefully that will be enough for Alex. Enough to make up for how distant she's been. Enough to lessen the sting of words she knows she'll never be able to take back.

* * *

Lena is already in the middle of helping Ruby with her math homework when Sam lets out an excited squeak, almost burns her hand on the burner at her stove, and says, "We just scored a meeting with Supergirl on Friday."

Ruby looks between them, perched on a stool at the breakfast counter. "Who's Supergirl?"

"Why are we even calling her that?" Lena asks. "It's not her name."

"Well, I don't know how else to describe that symbol," Sam says, turning her body and stirring her pasta one-pot-wonder.

"Why can't you just call her Al - "

"Supergirl," Sam interrupts, voice a little high. "We're calling her Supergirl."

It takes Lena a moment to realise Sam hasn't told Ruby about Alex. It's strange, but Lena feels a little sorry for this Alex right now, who must be crazy about Sam to pull this favour, and -

Well.

Lena won't pretend to know what it's like navigating the world of dating with a child at home, but it must mean something that Sam still hasn't mentioned Alex to Ruby.

"Who is she?" Ruby repeats. "Sounds made-up."

"That's because it is," Sam tells her. "She's an artist coming to paint a mural for Aunt Lena. L-Corp is officially turning one since the rebranding, and we're commemorating a job well done."

Ruby looks between them, and then shrugs. "Okay."

Lena looks at Sam, who just looks amused. "Your kid's obviously not interested in what we've got going on," Lena says.

"As long as she's fed and gets to watch TV; she needs nothing more," Sam adds.

"I'm sitting right here," Ruby informs them, and Lena gently bumps their shoulders together.

"Do the next one," Lena says. "It's similar to number four, so you just have to apply a similar principal."

Ruby eyes her for a moment, and then diligently works on the next sum. Lena knows the preteen doesn't particularly enjoy Math, but it definitely helps having a CFO of a Fortune 500 company as a mother and a double Doctor in the Sciences as an aunt.

The kid's really hit the jackpot in that regard.

Lena knows Sam worries over whether she's enough for Ruby, playing the role of two parents. Lena knows her place in this little family, offering love and receiving it, but never being more or less than Aunt Lena.

When dinner is ready, Ruby has just finished up, and Sam sends her to wash up while Lena gathers some plates and cutlery for them. She's kicked off her heels for the evening, and she's wearing a pair of Sam's sweatpants with her blood red blouse.

If her competitors could see her now.

Sam glances at her a few times, as if she can sense what's on her mind, and she worries her bottom lip in anticipation of what Lena might say to her. If anything, Lena will say nothing and Sam will end up doing all the talking for her.

Lena is a little smug when Sam proves her right.

It's after Ruby has gone to bed and all the dishes have been cleared that Sam settles on her couch with a glass of wine and says, "Please don't say it."

Lena just sips at her own wine and remains silent.

"Don't," Sam warns.

"I haven't even said anything."

"Well, you're saying nothing incredibly loudly," she mutters, puffing out a breath. "I know, okay? I _know_. I'm certain I'll break Alex's heart if she were ever to know I haven't even told Ruby there's a new woman in my life."

"Why haven't you?" Lena asks. "You keep mentioning how much you like her; how she's exceeding expectations about the fact you have a daughter. What seems to be the problem, Miss Arias?"

"There's no problem," Sam says. "I mean it," she adds at the sight of Lena's dubious expression. "There really is no problem, and I think that might be a problem in itself." She sets her glass of wine on the coffee table and settles further into the couch hugging a cushion to her chest. "I know nothing ever is, but being with her feels as close to perfect as it could get. She's kind and attentive, and she kisses me as if it's the first and last time all rolled into one."

"Then, why are you holding back?"

"Because it has to be too good to be true," Sam says. "What have I ever done to deserve something this good?"

Lena flashes to another faceless woman saying similar words, and she knows they have to mean something. They have to. Who even cares about deserving?

"It doesn't happen," Sam continues. "Not to people like me. Not to people like us, Lena, and I am terrified - constantly petrified - of how it will destroy me when it doesn't work out."

It is such a wild thing to have all of Lena's fears come out of Sam's mouth. Sam, who is the optimist between them. Sam, who has already overcome so much and keeps smiling through it all. Sam, who has been the face of reason through so many years of Lena's life.

Sam, who should know better.

"You're an idiot." They're not the words Lena's initially going to say, but she opens her mouth and they're the ones that come out.

"Excuse me?"

"You're an idiot," Lena repeats, firmer this time. "You can't honestly believe _you_ , of all people, don't deserve good things."

Sam gives her a look. "Why are you allowed to think those things about yourself but I'm not?"

"Because you're Sam."

"That means nothing to me."

"Well, it means a hell of a lot to me," Lena says, and there's a heaviness in her tone that's been creeping into their interactions as of late. It feels almost inevitable that they would get to this point, which is reassuring and alarming. "I don't know this Alex, but you see something in her, which means she sees something in you too, and I don't think she's an idiot."

"She's actually stupid smart," Sam says, almost offhandedly.

"Then you should trust that it can be _good_ ," Lena says. "That you can find someone who will be better than you thought and truer than you expect. She likes you, and she wants to meet Ruby, and maybe it won't work out because things sometimes don't, but I won't let you hold back from the kind of happiness you deserve because you're scared it won't."

"Lena."

"No."

" _Lena_ ," Sam says again, eyes a little teary. "Would you be saying all these things right back to you if we were talking about Jack instead of Alex?"

The answer is simple and terrifying, but it's true.

Because, no, she wouldn't.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN** : For this story, I made Midvale only an hour-long drive from National City.

* * *

**III**

Eliza's eyes nearly bug out of her head when Kara asks her to pick up Carter from school on Friday afternoon. Kara can tell her adoptive mother wants to ask a plethora of questions just from the press of her lips, but she manages to curb her curiosity.

Instead, she allows Kara to say, "I have to pop in at the gallery, and then I'm meeting a client." Her heart races a little at the mere thought of immersing herself in art again, but she's trying to channel her son.

Trying to put into practice all the things Nia has been trying to get her to do.

Speaking of.

At the correct time on Wednesday evening, Nia calls her and Kara is ready. Her son is safely tucked away in his bed, and she's just crawled under her own covers with her novel of the week.

The first thing Nia asks is how she's doing, and Kara contemplates answering that by just explaining what she's been up to all week. She knows that's not exactly what Nia is asking, but it's how Kara answers everything these days.

When normally asked, she talks about Carter, about the garden, and about how little sleep she gets.

Today, though, she says, "I think I'm going to be okay." The words are new and terrifying. "Maybe not today, maybe not even at all this year, but I think I'm going to be okay."

"Something happened," Nia guesses.

"Something is always happening."

"Something specific, then," Nia presses.

"So many things stopped for me when I lost her," she says. "My work, specifically. I've been lucky that I could stop and not suffer for it, but I - I think now's the time to get started again."

"Why now?"

"Why not?" Kara says, and she's trying to be optimistic about it. She spent a longer time in her studio in the afternoon, running her fingers over her paintbrushes and canvases. She didn't feel overwhelmed by the pieces before her, and it was the first time she truly felt she could get back to what she has dedicated her life to.

Carter was right, and she isn't even surprised by it.

"Carter told me that he still does the things he loves to do because it makes him feel close to her," Kara tells Nia. "It's the same for me, yes, but being closer to her felt painful instead of being a comfort, and I'm - I think I've been looking at it all wrong. It's just that so much of my work is tied to her. She gave me the - she believed in me when I stopped believing in myself, and gave me the right kind of pep talk not to give up on my dreams. So much I've accomplished is because of her, and I don't - what if this is as good as it gets?

"But then I think, if this _is_ as good as it gets, then it's still pretty good," Kara says, sighing. "I've been content to let life happen, I think. Almost expecting that things would start looking up without my having to do anything to make that happen, but that's not right, is it? It just - sometimes it feels like it's an insult to her memory, to move on, but I also know it's what she would want for us, because she told us so, and I'm - I'm trying."

Maybe she wasn't always, but she definitely is now.

* * *

Lena catches the tail end of Carter's mother's Wednesday evening segment purely by accident. It's what she'll tell anyone who asks, but her driver is tuning the radio as he drives her home and Lena asks him to remain on KX3P.

She settles further in her seat, eyes focused out the window as she hears Carter's mother say, "I think what I've needed is a push." Her voice is comforting in a way Lena can't describe, and she imagines she's not the only person who thinks that.

People are clamouring after her for a reason.

"Carter calling your station has been a rather rough one," she says with a small laugh, and Lena feels warmth spread through her. "He's just so committed to his mission to find me a new wife, and I just don't have the heart to tell him the likelihood of that ever happening, let alone through this way, is near impossible."

Nia hums, and Lena almost forgot it's actually a show. "Do you truly still believe you won't find another love?"

"Maybe," she says. "Maybe not. I didn't think I would ever find love at all the first time around, to be honest. High school was difficult enough without adding in the horrors of dating teenage boys with raging hormones."

Lena chuckles softly, because teenage boys truly are interesting creatures.

"I didn't mean to find her love when I did," Carter's mother says. "Which I suppose is the beauty of it. I never saw it coming and, if I do get lucky enough to experience something close to that again, I doubt I'll be ready for it, anyway."

"It's not about being ready," Nia tells her. "I don't think anyone ever is. I just wonder if it would be something you'd actively fight against if the opportunity to love again presented itself to you."

There's a long silence. "Well," the woman finally says; "I suppose that's a problem for a future me."

Alone, sitting in the backseat of her private car, Lena understands that feeling more than most. Almost as if letting life happen is all she can do, and just face it as it comes.

Perhaps Lena would do the same thing in the woman's position.

* * *

Alex sends her an address and a time early Friday morning, and Kara stares at her phone for long, long moments. She's aware of the area, but she can't recall the building. She's supposed to ask for Sam Arias when she arrives at noon, and Kara doesn't dare ask Alex if this is the woman she's been seeing.

She doesn't ask Alex much of anything these days.

Not when she failed to deliver the last thing Kara begged of her.

Kara just sends a confirmation to Alex, and then has to force herself to get out of bed. She's barely slept, dreams of waking up to silence keeping her from settling, but she has to get Carter ready and take him to school.

Kara won't even allow herself to think about the kind of mess she would be without Carter. Just knowing she has to look after him keeps her going, and he's always going to be her number one priority.

It helps that he's old enough to do things for himself, though. It has been some years since he ran around the house completely naked, and she's relieved for it. Though, it did make for some good photographs. She can't wait until he's old enough to be embarrassed by his antics.

She can't wait to be able to show his significant other.

There are so few things she actually looks forward to these days, so she enjoys the things she does. Like her morning coffee and her bagel.

She also really enjoys taking Carter to school. There's just something about the simple act of driving with him in the backseat, the two of them listening to the radio or just discussing their plans for the day. It's the most normal thing they do, and it's the one thing that hasn't changed since _Before_ , because she used to take him to school before it was just the two of them.

This way, it feels as if nothing is missing.

When Kara pulls into Carter's school's parking lot, it's still rather early. He likes having time in the mornings to get settled or even visit the library before his classes start, and Kara doesn't mind.

She doesn't really sleep, anyway.

She pulls into a spot and switches off the ignition, ready to walk with him right inside. Only, Carter doesn't move.

Kara turns in her seat to look at him. "Carter?"

His eyes are on her. "Grandma says she's fetching me from school," he says.

Kara nods. "I told you about this last night," she says, because it's something she had to warn him about. He is not a fan of change.

"You didn't tell me why," he points out.

"I'm going to National City," she tells him truthfully. "Winn's been nagging me for a visit."

Carter giggles.

"And I have to do a favour for Aunt Alex," she adds.

Carter perks up, and she feels inexplicably guilty that her distance from Alex has created a distance between Carter and Alex as well.

She's going to have to fix that.

"I'll bring you back sandwiches from Kirby's Deli," she tells him, and receives a beaming smile in response. She holds out her hand, which he takes, and gently squeezes his fingers. "Mommy's trying," she whispers.

"I know."

She supposes he really does.

"Maybe you'll take me with you next time," he suggests, and that's probably something Kara might be able to give him.

* * *

Lena gets this feeling, sometimes, that her life is about to change. She's never been able to explain it, but there's just this tingle in her bones that tells her something is about to happen.

She felt it for the first time the morning her father fetched her from her biological mother's house and took her somewhere new, allowing her to take only her stuffed lamb and her ballet shoes with her. She felt it the first time she ever beat Lex at Chess and he looked at her less as family and more an adversary from that moment on.

She felt it the day her father had a heart attack, the hours before they received the phone call settling oddly around her, and she felt it when they lowered him into the ground, the tingling constant and unpleasant.

She felt it in the middle of the night, eyes blinking open to a sick feeling in her gut and an even sicker feeling further down.

She felt it the morning the FBI raided her home and office looking for something tying her to her brother's dealings, after he pointed the finger in her direction. She felt it the first time she stepped into the boardroom as the new CEO. She felt it two months ago when Ruby glanced at her over her Math homework and quietly said, _you're going to be okay_.

But, more importantly, she feels it today.

* * *

Winn actually _squeals_ when he sees Kara.

Loud and high-pitched enough to be embarrassed, but he obviously doesn't care as he speed-walks across the gallery floor and pulls her into a hug that would hurt anyone else.

Kara lets out a soft chuckle in his ear, allowing the hug to go on for as long as he needs. Two minutes and nineteen seconds to be exact, and Kara really has missed his enthusiasm.

He loves art almost as much as she does, but he's a little bit useless with a paintbrush. No. That's unkind. Nobody's exactly _useless_ \- even if that's what he calls himself - it's just that his strengths are found elsewhere. He's at least aware of it.

"I'm really glad you're here," he says, finally releasing her. "You just left me alone with all these interns and they're driving me crazy with their incompetence."

Kara chuckles. "We were all interns once," she points out.

"Not as bad as these ones," Winn immediately counters. "They're worse than children, Kara." He pauses. "No, they're worse, actually. Lucy is out of control."

"You have to put your foot down, Winn," she tells him. "You're the one who's in charge."

Winn shoots her a look. "It's easy for you to say. You're taller than her."

Kara just smiles, feeling an immense sense of _right_ as she follows him through the open floor towards the offices and studio in the back. She's trying not to think about the coffee machine her wife picked out after complaining about the motor oil they were consuming, or the time Winn caught the two of them making out on the couch pressed against the wall in the studio.

This moment isn't about the memories. No, she's here to work, and isn't that a wonderful thing in itself?

* * *

At exactly noon, Sam pops her head into Lena's office and says, "The budget for Project 1756 is out of control; I'm about to go lay down the law on some idiot with a spending problem."

Lena raises her eyebrows, because she sounds entirely too happy about it. Lena has her own headache spread out before her, trying to make sense of the plans her team just sent her of a new generator design. "And you came to tell me this, why?"

"Because I'm headed there right now."

"Okay...?"

"Which means _you_ have to go downstairs."

Lena blinks. "Why am I going downstairs?"

"Supergirl is here."

Lena goes still. "She's here?"

"Waiting downstairs right now," Sam says. "So, you have to go down there. I'm probably going to be firing someone today."

"But - "

"It's _your_ mural, Lena," Sam says. "You should have been the one meeting her, anyway." She claps her hands together. "Come on, up you get, don't keep her waiting."

Before Lena can even respond to her, Sam has disappeared, and Lena is left to wonder if this is all some ploy of Sam's. Lena wouldn't put it past her. She's incredibly sneaky that way. It's annoying.

 _Sam_ is annoying.

With a sigh, Lena gets to her feet. She doesn't have anything pressing at the moment, but this is an alteration in her carefully-constructed daily schedule, and Jess looks suitably panicked when Lena steps out of her office.

Lena waves a hand to stop her from scrambling to her feet, intent to follow. "It's okay, Jess," she says. "Just Sam being her annoying self."

"Is this the start of a prank war?" Jess asks, and Lena laughs as she heads to the elevators.

"If it were, we would obviously win," Lena says, pressing the button to call an elevator. "But, no, I just have to meet someone in her stead." She feels that tingling in her bones again, and she tries not to think too hard about what it could mean. "It shouldn't take too long," Lena assures Jess; "just delay my call with Mercer Medical, okay?"

Jess nods, noting down the instruction, and then Lena disappears into an elevator when it arrives. She's relieved she's alone, offering her some time to gather her thoughts and settle her strange feelings about this entire thing.

She doesn't want to get her hopes up too much, because the chances are this woman is going to look at the space Lena has allocated and decide it's impossible.

Even Lena is starting to see it that way.

Though, if this woman is willing to try, then Lena's going to let her. It seems odd, though, that someone like Supergirl would do this, and she wonders if her persona was always meant to hide her true identity.

Well.

Alex gave her away, it seems.

If anything, Lena doesn't know what to expect. She caught sight of an old picture of Alex from her hospital profile, but Sam mentioned she looks vastly different now. Shorter hair and sharper cheekbones, and Lena believes it, because that Alex looked so young.

So, Lena isn't sure what to expect when she steps off the elevator, heart suddenly racing, but it definitely isn't the blonde woman quietly chatting to Edward from Security, eyes crinkled in amusement behind a pair of glasses and messenger bag hanging off her shoulder.

She's tall and beautiful, and Lena is allowed just a few seconds to take her in before Edward gestures in her direction and Lena is met with the bluest eyes in existence.

Oh.

 _Oh my_.

* * *

It is a _walloping_.

It's really the only thought in Kara's head when the woman steps off the elevator, and she has a moment of extreme panic when she realises she's wearing paint-splattered jeans and an oversized sweater against this woman's sheer perfection.

Then she feels disappointment, resentment and a hint of jealousy that Alex has managed to land this woman, right until she introduces herself as Lena. Not Sam, who Alex reluctantly revealed is the name of the woman she's seeing.

Kara ignores her relief and smiles politely as she says, "Please call me Kara."

Lena's left eyebrow arches, and Kara tries not to stare, because that is a dangerous eyebrow. "Not Supergirl?"

Kara shakes her head, relaxing slightly, even though the idea this woman now knows her identity should make her uncomfortable. She can't realistically explain what's just happened to her, but she knows she can handle talking about her artistry. It's her comfort, despite how difficult the past few months have been. "Please no," she says. "I had nothing to do with that name."

Lena seems intrigued, but Kara decides that's a story for another day. Possibly never.

Kara clears her throat. "Sam isn't joining us?" she asks.

"She's busy firing someone at the moment," Lena tells her, and Kara's convinced she's joking until she notices Lena's unchanging expression.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Kara chuckles, feeling her nerves dispel. "Well, that sounds like a lot more fun than discussing paint colours," she comments. "I'm also sure Alex would be relieved to know I'm not meeting Sam without her around. She always claims I take too much pleasure in embarrassing her."

"As siblings are meant to do," Lena says, and then purses her lips, as if she's just thought of something unpleasant. Kara doesn't comment. "So, I'm afraid you're stuck with only me."

"There are worse things," Kara says without thought, and blushes at the sudden intensity behind Lena's green eyes. "Um, so, where do you want it?"

Lena's eyes widen. "Excuse me?"

"The mural," Kara says, trying not to blush too much. Why did she ask the question like that? "Alex, um, she said I'm supposed to be painting a mural?"

Lena is kind enough not to comment on her faux-pas, and just starts to walk, expecting Kara to follow.

Kara does.

The foyer is well-lit with high ceilings and gorgeous chandeliers. The floors are pristine, and the space they're in leads towards a bank of elevators right down the centre of the atrium.

There is an endless wall from the left end of the building to the start of the elevators, and it is white and empty.

Kara already know it's her newest canvas.

Lena points, anyway, coming to a stop and taking in the expanse of white wall. Right from the floor to the ceiling. There are a pair of artful benches in front of the wall, but that's all.

"Whoa," Kara says before she can stop herself.

Lena glances at her. "It's a lot, isn't it?"

Kara nods, because there's no use lying. She's never painted such a large piece before, and she's worryingly out of practice. The last thing she wants is to mess this up for Alex if she can't deliver.

"I suppose it's why we've been struggling to find someone willing to take it on," Lena explains. "Well, there's _that_ , and the fact my surname is Luthor." She says it with slight disdain, and Kara decides not to comment again. She knows how it feels to be disillusioned by family. "You would really be doing us a favour."

Kara wouldn't be doing _her_ a favour, no. This is all for Alex, whom she can't bring herself to talk to the way she once did. "When did you say you needed this done, again?"

"Our event is on the twelfth of January," Lena tells her.

Kara blinks. "That's in less than a month."

"I'm aware."

Kara probably stares for a little too long because Lena looks to the wall again, her jaw clenched.

"Do you think you'll be able to do it?" she asks.

Kara can't stop staring, particularly when the woman has presented Kara with her side profile. Kara will admit to the artist in her being deeply fascinated, but nothing else. Kara would love to paint her, and isn't that a terrifying thing?

"That depends," Kara says, gathering herself. "What exactly are you looking for? Because we have a few options."

"Options?"

"What's your opinion on digital art?" Kara asks.

"Excuse me?"

"Hate it? Love it?"

Lena takes a breath, as if steadying herself. "I don't have an opinion on it," she says. "Though, I'm interested in paint as a medium."

Kara nods. "All right," she says. "And you want this entire area covered?"

"I want it to tell a story."

"A story?"

"About the company," Lena says. "About the last year. About our transition from what we were meant to be, to what we became, and now to what we are."

Kara watches her, slightly transfixed. "Tell me more," she whispers.

"What?"

"I can't paint your story if I don't know it," Kara tells her. Which is true, yes, though Kara finds she just wants to hear this woman talk.

Lena invites her to sit on one of the benches, and Kara sets her bag on the floor, hands in her lap. Lena sits perfectly straight, legs crossed beneath the bench, and Kara does not stare at her legs.

She doesn't.

"My father started this company," Lena explains after a moment, her eyes everywhere but Kara. "It was LuthorCorp first, and I believe he had good intentions." She shifts slightly. "Something went wrong along the way, and he lost sight of the good we were meant to be doing. Helping people; saving them with technology and medicine. We went down a path I'm not proud of, diving into weapons manufacturing for the increased profit, and I - " she stops.

Kara can't take her eyes off her; the way her jaw works as she speaks and the way her lips form the words.

"I'm sure you know the story," Lena says. "About my brother."

Kara does. Of course she does. Nearly everyone knows this story. "Tell me, anyway," Kara tells her. "Unless you don't want to, of course."

Lena clears her throat. "Lex started selling weapons we produced that didn't meet our standards on the black market instead of destroying them," she says. "I didn't - we didn't figure it out until one of our government contracted weapons was used in a terrorist attack right here in National City, and I - things had to change."

Kara nods, recalling the FBI probe into LuthorCorp to discover how their weapons got into the wrong hands. It was a media storm, with Lex Luthor eventually standing trial as an accessory to a terrorism attack that killed fifty-three people.

"I became CEO," Lena tells her, refusing to dive into the darker parts of the company's story. "Changed the name to L-Corp. We've been working very hard to get the company back on track; promoting clean energy and affordable medical devices. I've poured so much of myself into what we do here, and it's been difficult at times, but I - we're celebrating our first birthday after the rebranding, and I have this idea of a mural to commemorate it, but nobody is willing to take it on."

There's a slight crease in Lena's brow when she stops speaking, and Kara waits to see if she'll start again.

The smart thing would be to tell this woman it's impossible and go home. The smart thing would be to get up right now, apologise, and then walk out. She can tell Alex she wouldn't be able to finish by the deadline, comforted by the fact she even came as Alex asked.

The smart thing would be to leave this place and not look back, because there is something very troubling about the way Kara feels in this moment with regards to this woman, and Kara doesn't want it.

She wants none of it.

And, yet, Kara does not do the smart thing. If anyone were to ask, she's convinced she never has.

"I'll do it," Kara says, without thought, and Lena's head snaps up.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll do it," Kara repeats, firmer. Well. She's in it now. She can properly unpack it later. "If you're still interested."

Lena looks a combination of delighted and incredulous, and her eyes are impossibly green. "If I'm still interested," she echoes.

"I just mean that you probably have an idea for your piece, right? And, um, have you even seen any of my work?" Kara suddenly feels shy, as if Lena's opinion carries weight.

God.

What is wrong with her?

This is for Alex. All of this is for Alex.

"I have," Lena tells her. "Sam and I looked at your website together, and I believe Alex has some pieces at her place."

Kara feels a smile tug at her lips, because Alex has always displayed her work. Even when she was just starting out, her sketches not too detailed. Alex has kept all of the little drawings she's made for her, and she's always so proud of the things Kara creates.

Alex says it's because she, herself, is so useless creatively, but Kara knows it's because she's a complete sap behind all the badassery she portrays.

"Your work tells a story," Lena says. "I'm sure you have some ideas, yourself."

Kara nods, twisting her body to look at the wall behind them and using her hands to indicate where she's referring to. "I want to paint it as if it's a timeline," she says, pointing to the far left. "On the left, we start at the beginning of the company, the colours of summer the main palette, and then we move through the years and darken the colours to represent the struggles of the company, before we have a burst of spring colours over here. The rebirth, as it were, colours fading into a bright palette of autumn colours." Kara looks at Lena's face. "I don't know why it is, but you remind me of autumn."

"Autumn?" Lena questions.

"Autumn," Kara confirms. "Fall." Her head tilts slightly. "Just _warm_."

Lena looks at her with something like disbelief. "Most people would claim I remind them of winter," she comments. "Apparently, I'm cold."

Kara shakes her head. "I'm an artist. It's basically my job to know colours, so I'm the expert here. Those people know nothing."

"I'll take your word for it."

"As you should."

* * *

Lena doesn't want to be charmed, but she is. Deeply and whole-bodily.

It spreads like a warmth through her body as she listens to Kara talk, eyes bright and smile present. It is obvious to anyone paying attention that she loves her work more than anything. It seems a part of her entire body, hands unable to sit still as she explains her ideas and colour palettes, and Lena thinks she could listen to this woman talk art for hours and hours.

Except.

There is a wedding set of rings on Kara's fourth finger of her left hand, and Lena isn't even surprised. Of course a woman like this would be taken, probably snatched up a long time ago.

It's probably a good thing, because Lena shouldn't be charmed by some stranger. Not for a second time in as many weeks, please. She's already got too much going on in her life to find people she intends to hire fascinating.

Lena clears her throat. "Earlier, you mentioned digital art," she starts.

Kara nods slowly. "I did," she starts. "It's a medium I use for wallpaper, mainly. My, um - " she stops, as if catching herself, and Lena wonders what she was going to say. "I can draw patterns on my tablet, and print them out. I was thinking I could paint the piece in sections, and we could print it out like wallpaper."

Lena knows that's the simpler, easier and faster way to do it, but she doesn't want to. She wants paint. The wants the texture; the colour contrasts.

Kara must see it on her face, because she smiles. "Or... I could just come in every day and paint it right up on that wall," she offers instead.

"Is that asking too much?"

Kara hesitates, but eventually shakes her head. "It'll be a push, but the good thing is that the piece I have in mind isn't too complicated or heavy in detail. I should be able to get it done."

"Are you sure?"

Kara nods. "If I see it's getting too close to the deadline, I'll have some of my interns help," she assures her.

"You have interns?"

"Of course," Kara says, and she smiles this smile that would be a smirk if it weren't more of a grin. "I'm Supergirl, after all."

"Do I get to hear that story?" Lena finds herself asking, because she's very curious. Interested in a way that leaves her fingers tingling.

"It's not really - " Kara starts to say, but stops at the sound of her phone ringing. She gives Lena an apologetic look before fishing her phone out of her bag and answering, "Hey, Alex," with a gentle smile.

Lena wishes she could still talk to her own sibling that way.

"No, I'm still here," Kara is saying. "I haven't met Sam, no, so you can stop stressing yourself out, okay?" She rolls her eyes, exchanging an exasperated look with Lena. "No. I probably will. Okay, sure. Um." She nibbles on her bottom lip and Lena tries not to stare. "I can - yeah, I can just bring it to you. No, yeah, it'll be okay. I'm sure. Okay. Love you too." She hangs up, looking a bit troubled. "Sorry about that," she eventually says. "Alex was just checking in."

"It's nice of her to do that."

Kara nods a little absentmindedly. "I'm - yeah, I'm supposed to take lunch to the hospital for her," she says. "We don't - things have been strange between us for a while and I don't know how to fix it."

Lena can't figure why Kara is telling her any of this.

"What kind of food says, _I'm sorry I've been so distant these past few months, please know I didn't actually mean to blame you for something I know isn't your fault_?"

Lena blinks. "Pizza?"

Kara laughs, soft and gentle, and there is something familiar about it in a way Lena can't quite grasp. "Is there a pizza place close by?" she asks.

"Not really," Lena tells her. "Though, there is a place called Noonan's not too far from here that would probably satisfy anyone's cravings."

Kara seems to make a mental note of the name. "Thanks," she says, sighing. "Sorry about that, by the way. I just now realised it was probably unprofessional. I'm a little out of practice."

"It's okay," Lena assures her.

Kara places her phone back in her bag and resumes talking shop. "Okay, so, I'm going to develop some colour palettes, and then send them through to you to decide which ones you prefer. How does that sound?"

"Good."

"In the mean time, I'm going to get my team to close off this section," Kara tells her. "Can't have people catching a peek before it's ready. There's more drama in an unveiling, anyway."

Lena watches as Kara ruffles through her bag again and reveals a business card. It has no name, just the odd 'S' logo and a phone number. "Alex has been dealing with Sam to set this all up, so I figure it's easier if I just give you my direct line," Kara tells her. "If you have any questions or want to make any adjustments, just contact me there."

Lena holds the card as if it's something precious.

When Kara gets to her feet, Lena has the inexplicable urge to ask her to stay for a little while longer. It doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense.

What she does do is ask, "Where are you planning on sending the colour palettes?"

"Excuse me?"

"You said you'd send the colour palettes to me," Lena says. "But how?"

Kara opens her mouth, and then closes it. She opens it again. "I, um, I don't know."

Lena smiles, shaking her head. "I'll be sure to send you my email address as soon as I'm back in my office," she tells her, enjoying the fish-out-of-water look Kara is currently wearing a little too much.

"Sounds like a plan," Kara says, smiling in relief.

Lena also gets to her feet, carefully smoothing out her blouse and skirt. She can practically feel Kara's eyes on her, and Lena has to remind herself of the wedding ring. "Thank you for doing this," Lena tells her.

"I haven't done anything yet," Kara deflects.

"You're really doing us a real solid here."

"You're only saying that because you haven't yet seen how much I'm going to charge you," Kara points out, smile belaying mischief.

Lena doesn't intend to brag but when she says, "I'm sure I can afford it," she means it.

"Is that basically permission to overcharge?" Kara asks, hanging her bag off her shoulder and adjusting the strap.

"Charge anything you want," Lena tells her, and she's serious despite the teasing in her tone. "Is that something you're also going to send through to a contact you don't yet have?"

"Hah," Kara fakes a laugh. "I would have made a plan. My gallery manager could probably find everything I needed to know. I have connections, I'll have you know."

Lena side-eyes her, but her red lips are pulled into a smirk. "Hmm, you _are_ Supergirl."

* * *

Kara's good mood fades to nothing by the time she arrives at Old Budapest Hospital, takeout bag in tow and thundering heart in her chest.

This is where -

This is -

Kara can't bring herself to step inside, so she plonks herself on a concrete bench in front of the main building and takes out her phone to call Alex. It's chilly outside, but it's still a nice enough day that they could probably eat out here and not freeze to death. It's really one of the reasons Kara loves National City.

Still so many more reasons she hates it.

Alex answers with an, "I'm headed outside right now," as if she always just knew Kara wouldn't be able to step inside. She probably did.

Kara has to remind herself this is what it feels like to be _known_.

Kara sits perfectly still as she waits, the sun shining on her legs and the world bustling before her. The sounds are pleasant, comforting in a way she's allowing them to be.

She hears Alex before she sees her, voice curling around a curse word as she almost trips over uneven paving. And this woman was once a surfing champion, imagine. Clumsiness must run in the family.

Well, there are worse things to inherit from one another.

Kara hasn't seen Alex since before Thanksgiving, Alex opting to work through the holiday, even though Eliza threatened to fetch her herself. Kara knows it was her fault Alex felt she couldn't come home, but she's determined to make up for it now. She owes her sister that much.

She owes her wife, as well.

So, it's been a while since Kara's seen Alex and, when she lifts her head to look at her, it's a bit of an out-of-body experience. God. She's missed her _so much_.

Kara scrambles to her feet and closes the space between them in three large strides, surprising them both. Alex has just enough time to register her approach before she's engulfed in the strength of Kara's hug, and it -

It feels like coming home.

Alex relaxes into her, and Kara just - it feels as if she can finally _let go_. Just breathe. Her sister is here. She'll take care of everything.

After what feels like an eternity, Alex gently pats her back. "Well, I missed you too, Kara," she murmurs, trying for a joke but sounding too sincere to be believed. "What did you bring me? I'm starving."

Kara gives her one last squeeze, and then releases her to take a good look at her. Alex always looks exhausted. She claims it comes with the territory. Going from medical student to surgical resident and now neurosurgery fellow really just equates to little sleep.

But she looks a little more exhausted than usual, and Kara feels guilt grip at her heart. "Come on," she says. "I got you a salad."

Alex actually squeaks. "You did _not_."

Kara just laughs as she settles on her claimed bench and starts taking out the abundance of food she bought. "I would never do that to you," she says, words heavier than usual. They have things to talk about - many, many things - but they'll get there.

Alex tucks into her cheeseburger before she brings up the meeting, and Kara hands her a napkin, almost without thinking. "God, you're such a mom," Alex jokes, but takes the offered napkin. "Did it really go well?"

Kara sips some of her water, nodding. "I told you I didn't meet Sam," she says. "Which is a little disappointing."

"You'll meet her eventually," Alex assures her as if it's a certain thing. "Who did you meet with, then?"

"Uh, I assume her boss? Lena?"

Alex's eyes widen. "Whoa."

"Whoa, indeed," Kara says, still not entirely sure how she feels about the interaction as a whole. She's sure she'll get the opportunity to unpack it properly later, but she tells Alex the basics of all the art talk.

"You're going to be coming into the city every day?" Alex asks, and she desperately tries not to look too excited by that bit of information.

"That's the plan," Kara tells her. "I'll make sure to keep bringing you lunch. You're looking skinny, and Eliza would kill me. Why isn't Sam feeding you?"

Alex laughs, and it sounds light. Happy. "I think, if I let Sam cook for me, all I would eat is pasta."

"You love pasta."

"Not every day, Kara," she points out, and her smile is blinding. Kara is so relieved to see it. Right in front of her eyes. She's missed it. She's missed so many things. "But, yeah, I guess I have been neglecting myself a little," she confesses, voice quiet.

Kara feels the apology in her bones, and she says, "I'm sorry," for so much.

Alex picks a pickle slice out of her burger and holds it out to her. "Eat this, and all will be forgiven."

Kara pulls her face. "That's mean," she says. "You know how much I hate pickles."

"I do," Alex says, waving said pickle around. "Eat it."

"No."

Alex pouts, and it's such a pale imitation of Kara's. "Eat the pickle, Kara."

"I already told you I'm sorry," she says, leaning back when Alex moves the pickle closer. "I'm not eating that thing."

Alex just shakes her head, visibly amused, and pops the pickle in her own mouth. "Don't say I never did anything for you," she comments lightly.

Still, it lands heavily.

Kara looks at her feet. "Carter misses you," she says. "I - maybe I can bring him with me some time next week and he can see you?"

Alex brightens right before her eyes. "Yes, please," she says. "I can probably squeeze out a day off, so just keep me updated, and I - I would love that, Kara."

"Hmm, and he can talk _your_ ear off for a change."

Alex laughs. "What's got his attention now?"

"Same thing all week."

Alex's eyebrows rise. "Your new wife."

"He's found her, apparently," she says, rolling her eyes. It doesn't feel completely natural, because the letter from L has offered Kara something the others haven't. It's obvious why Carter would choose her.

It's just that he seems stuck on what to do from here, and Kara definitely isn't going to help him find and contact some stranger.

Alex just smiles. "I mean, it's kind of cute how invested he is," she says. "He wants you to be happy."

"I - " she starts and stops, because she can't say that she is happy. "I just - do I need new love to be happy?"

"I think it's the only way he's known you," Alex tells her. "He knows you only when you've been in love - even if you didn't even know it - and he wants that back for you."

Kara sighs, shoulders slumping. "I'm trying," she whispers, repeating words she said to Carter just a few hours earlier.

Alex rests a hand on her knee, squeezing gently. "I know," she says, unknowingly echoing Carter's response.

Well.

As long as they know.

* * *

"So."

Lena pierces a leaf of kale and ignores Sam's pointed stare. She's a little annoyed with her, because there was apparently no actual firing, and Sam just wanted Lena to be the one to meet Kara.

Lena doesn't even know why.

"Oh, come on," Sam says. "I bought you lunch to apologise."

Lena just chews her kale in silence, perfectly willing to sit here and let her best friend stew. One of her worst traits really is her stubbornness. It makes her great in business, but annoying to be friends with.

"Lena."

She doesn't even look up.

"How was it?" Sam asks, and Lena flashes back to Kara's ill-phrased question. Her cheeks burn a little, because there were connotations in those words that exist here, and Sam just doesn't know it.

"You could have known the answer yourself, if you'd just gone down there," Lena points out.

"I know, okay," Sam says, sighing. "It's just that Alex was so nervous about it, and she gets really weird whenever her sister comes up, and I thought - I get the impression she didn't actually _want_ me to meet her - not without her there, at least - so I thought it would be better for everyone if _you_ met her instead. Which it totally was, because I wouldn't have known what you wanted from the mural, anyway."

While Lena can accept that, she definitely doesn't appreciate the deceit. She hates people doing things behind her back and with uninformed intentions. Sam _knows_ that, and she still did it.

"You could have just told me all of that," she says. "I would have understood."

Sam sighs. "Would you really, have?"

"You know I would do anything for you."

Sam's features soften. "Would you write Carter's mother another letter?"

Lena's eyebrows rise. "Another?"

Sam blinks. "Well, yeah, you already said what you would write in your first letter, but things have changed since then, yeah? She's finding herself."

"Sam."

"I know you've been listening to the links I've been sending you," Sam says. "You're as invested as I am. Perhaps more. I mean, imagine if you could meet her one day, what would you say to her?"

Lena rolls her eyes. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Lena eats more of her salad, pondering what Sam's asking of her. She thinks of Carter and his mother often - more often than she'd likely admit - but she hasn't thought of anything she would tell them in a while.

Sam shifts in her seat, moving her food carton around and seemingly getting more comfortable.

"I mean, I don't know what I would say if I ever met her, but I think I would send Carter a radio," Lena finally says. "I remember being his age and being interested in how things work. It wasn't anything Lillian encouraged but Lex allowed me to watch him work and even tinker with a few things. It was before things really started to fall apart, and I - they were good memories. Carter deserves good memories. They both do."

Lena smiles gently. "I would tell her that it's okay to move on. To keep going and grow and love life and try to be happy. It _isn't_ an insult to her wife's memory and she has nothing to feel guilty about. There is no timeline on grief, of course, but it's okay to get back to things she loves; the people she loves. It's okay to get back to the life she was always meant to live. Something tells me she needs someone to keep telling her that, and - " she stops when her phone vibrates against her leg, slightly tucked under her leg as she sits on the couch with Sam.

Sam watches her reach for it and smile. "Who's that?"

"Kara," Lena says, showing Sam her screen. "She's sent her colour ideas for the piece. She wants me to go through them and pick the ones I prefer."

"Already?"

Lena nods, reading the attached message again. "She says she picked up lunch for Alex and got inspired."

"Oh?"

Lena sets her phone aside. "She mentioned things with her sister have been strange for some reason, so you're definitely not imagining it when Alex acts off in regards to her."

"She won't talk about it."

"I'm sure she will, when she's ready," Lena assures her.

Sam sighs. "Speaking of difficult things to talk about," she starts; "Alex asked if she was allowed to get Ruby a Christmas present, and I told her I had to think about it."

"Oh, Sam."

"I feel - she's not even pushing for anything, you know? It's just that she listens to me, you know? She listens when I talk about what my kid is up to, and then she wants to buy her gifts related to her interests, and I - what if she's the real deal?"

"What if she is, indeed?" Lena says, because Alex probably is the real deal. Lena doesn't know her, but she gets the feeling this pair of sisters have brought something very true into their lives, and she and Sam are just going to have to get used to it.

"I'm going to tell Ruby about her," Sam declares, nodding her head.

Lena takes far too much pleasure in saying, "Oh, she already knows," because Sam actually chokes on the wedge of tomato she's just put in her mouth. Lena laughs, head tilted back. "Oh, my God, look at you."

"She knows?"

"Of course she knows," Lena says. "You're not as sneaky as you think you are." Something happens to Sam's face that Lena can't quite read, but she doesn't ask. "You smile like an idiot whenever Alex texts you, and you came home with a hickey the last time you had me babysit."

Sam's mouth opens and closes. "Seriously?"

"It was massive, Sam," Lena says, laughing. "Like she sucked a galaxy right onto your neck."

Sam flushes a deep red. "My kid isn't even supposed to know what a hickey is," she says, voice high. "So, she knows?"

Lena nods.

"And she's okay with it?"

"I think kids just want their mothers to be happy," Lena says. "Alex makes you happy, right?"

"So happy, Lena," she breathes. "I've literally never felt like this before. I barely know what to do with myself."

Lena smiles gently, both happy for and a little envious of her friend. "Then you should let her fully into your life," she says. "Let her prove to you that you'll work when she's a part of all of it."

"What if - "

"No." Lena lifts a hand to stop her. "Just enjoy life, Sam. If we've learned anything from Carter's mother, it's that it's short and unexpected, and we have to make the good memories so we can hold onto them for forever."

"Are you going to take your own advice?"

Lena pauses. "And do what, exactly?"

Sam looks set to bring up something Lena knows she's not going to like, but that's the moment Jess knocks on her office door and pokes her head inside.

"Sorry to interrupt," Jess says; "but your three o'clock just arrived, Miss Luthor."

Lena shouldn't be relieved but she can't help it. "Duty calls," she tells Sam, whose expression is pinched in a way that lets Lena know this isn't the end of this conversation.

* * *

Carter demolishes his ham and mustard sandwich Kara brings him from Kirby's Deli in five bites, and it's one of the times she's convinced he's really her son.

Eliza just slides a glass of water towards him, deciding against trying to slow him down. She glances at Kara, who just watches him with a proud expression.

Her wife would be horrified, and the thought forces a laugh out of her. Carter gives her a curious look, and she loves him so very much.

"I got a new client today," Kara tells them, unable to look at either of them. "It's a mural in a building in the city. I have to - I'm going to be going into the city several times of week to get it finished by the first week of January."

Eliza leans forward. "You're working again?"

Kara nods, fidgeting. "It's a favour for Alex," she deflects. A _huge_ favour.

"You saw her today?" Eliza asks, and Kara knows she's hurting, too, watching Kara and Alex struggle with words said and promises unkept. "How is she?"

"Overworked, exhausted and way too skinny," Kara tells her. "But I think she's okay. She's, yeah, she's good."

Eliza doesn't look entirely convinced.

"She will be," Kara assures her. "She's Alex."

"And you're Kara," Eliza says, as if it explains everything.

"And I'm Carter," Carter adds, just because, and Kara smiles at him. "And that's Grandma."

Eliza always looks surprised when he refers to her that way, and Kara loves it. It's always been an adjustment for Eliza, accepting Kara's love for her boss, who was nineteen years older than her. Accepting that Kara would become a mother to a four-year-old and inherit half of a growing, public empire.

Eliza became an unexpected grandmother, and Kara knows she loves it. Who wouldn't? Carter has stolen hearts all over this place.

"We're going to be okay," Kara says, and she doesn't mention to whom she's referring.

Perhaps all of them.

* * *

Lena is still sitting at her desk when Kara sends her another two colour palettes, along with an entire paragraph about when her team is meant to come in and set things up. She rambles a little, typing a four-line sentence about her plans for the upcoming week.

She also sends little sketches in short bursts, and Lena can't help her smile at the woman's enthusiasm. She's worked with artists before, in different capacities. Interior designers, architects, sculptors, and many others. Still, she's convinced this particular artist is going to be different to all of them.

Then, Kara texts, _are there any colours you absolutely hate?_ , and Lena feels as if opening this line of communication is dangerous.

It's just a bad idea.

Because she suspects this is a person who could _understand_ her, and Lena doesn't need the heartbreak attached to such a thing. Because she knows it's inevitable. She's learned enough about herself to know she'll give pieces of herself to someone who cannot hold them.

And, yet, Lena still responds with, _Does white count as a colour?_

 _You don't like white?!_ , Kara replies immediately.

Lena laughs to herself, because her office -

She looks around.

Everything is white.

Without thinking about it too much, she lifts her phone and snaps a picture of the inside of her office. She hesitates for only a moment before she sends it to Kara with the caption, _it's just that I'm surrounded by it, you see_.

It's both a surprise and not when her phone starts to ring in her hand, Kara's name popping up, and Lena stares for a long moment before she answers.

"Hello." Her voice is steady which is a feat in itself.

"Lena," Kara says, and her name is an admonishment all in itself. "Before I even get started on the absolute lack of colour in that picture, what on earth are you still doing at work?"

"Um. Working."

Kara hums. "It's almost eight o'clock on a Friday night," she points out. "Have you at least had dinner?"

Lena definitely isn't going to answer that question.

Kara tuts. "It seems Alex isn't the only one I'm going to have to keep an eye on," she says. "Tell me about your office."

"It's modern?"

"You sound unsure."

"I paid someone a lot of money to make the space look professional and powerful," she reveals. "It's something I needed when I first started out. Part of my armour, as it were."

"Ah." Kara pauses. "Do you have any art in there?"

Lena looks behind her, and then to the right. She snaps two pictures of the canvases on the walls, not entirely sure who the artists actually are. It's an oversight on her part, but she rarely looks behind her, anyway.

Lena hears fumbling as Kara receives the pictures, and then she says, "Okay, not terrible choices. They definitely work with the space. But, dear God, Lance is kind of an asshole."

"Friend of yours?"

"Don't tell Sam, but she and Alex had a... short tryst a while back, and she loves to laud it over me, because the thought of my sister having sex is just... icky."

Lena laughs. "Icky?" she questions. "How old are you, exactly?"

"Oh, that's all part of the Supergirl folklore," Kara responds. "I am however old the myth says I am."

"You still have to tell me that story."

"And you still have to tell me which colour palette works for you."

Lena looks at the screen of her computer, where all the selections are on display. The piece, itself, is going to have three, maybe four obvious sections, the colours melding together as the company's story moves through time. "I like the first one," she says. "And the third."

"Okay, okay. Hold on."

Lena holds.

"Okay." A hum. "I can definitely work with that. Wait. Hold on."

Lena just smiles to herself.

"Do you have them open? Look at the fourth one I sent."

"I'm looking."

"The autumn colours are better there, I think," Kara says. "More pronounced. If we use those at the end, one and three should perfectly balance it all out, and I promise to avoid as much white as possible."

"You're the expert."

"Hah, would you look at that, it seems I am."

Lena is continually charmed. It spreads warmth through her body, steadily waking parts of her that should definitely remain dormant.

"Have we reached a decision?" Kara asks.

"I think we have," Lena says.

"Okay, great, because I have a tiny human I need to put to bed, so I better go," she says. "I'm glad we could get this sorted out. I can't wait to get started."

Lena closes her eyes, something heavy shifting within her because -

"Lena?"

"Sorry, yeah, of course, goodnight, Kara."

"Goodnight, Lena," she returns, and then hangs up.

It's worse than Lena thought.

Not only is Kara married, but she's also a mother. Which, inexplicably, makes her more unattainable and even more attractive to Lena.


End file.
